


Do You Allow Your Pets to Sleep on the Bed?

by daphnomancy



Series: Pet Shop Boys [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cock Rings, Collars, Come Eating, Domestic Fluff, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Feminization, Flogging, Gags, HYDRA Husbands, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Multi, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Spanking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnomancy/pseuds/daphnomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When Brock had suggested bringing Steve Rogers into their bed, Jack had been understandably skeptical.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Allow Your Pets to Sleep on the Bed?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mathildia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/gifts).
  * Translation into Italiano available: [Do You Allow Your Pets to Sleep on the Bed?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5947654) by [NaimaDahmer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaimaDahmer/pseuds/NaimaDahmer)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Вы позволяете своим питомцам спать в кровати?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243991) by [Saysly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saysly/pseuds/Saysly)



> This is a gift for mathildia's birthday. Was originally supposed to be a tiny one-shot because she suggested I put Steve in [this special super whacky gag](http://www.ebay.com/itm/Heavy-duty-stainless-steel-genuine-Leather-ball-gag-adjustable-lockable-harness-/140738882205) that makes its appearance near the end of the fic, but grew into something unexpectedly big. Also, the gag in question is super hard to describe, so I hope I did it justice.
> 
> Also, there's an oblique, blink and you'll miss it reference to lingua_mortua's Breaking and Entering! As well as an homage to mathildia's Ice Cream.
> 
> Title from an okcupid question, the answer to which is something only your heart can decide. I've been on that site way too much these past few weeks. (If the pet is Steve Rogers, then yes. Absolutely). 
> 
> ALSO; I think I tagged everything. This is just plain gratuitous porn with no merit and should not be taken seriously.

When Brock had suggested bringing Steve Rogers into their bed, Jack had been understandably skeptical. Was it a virgin thing? Brock usually actively disliked virgins though. But Jack had not grown nearly as close to Captain America as Brock had so he had no idea what Brock was playing at. So yeah. It had to be a virgin thing. Who was more virginal than Captain Fucking America?

Was it a Captain America thing? Fucking the guy who tried to bring down all of Hydra?

The three of them went to dinner. _Dinner_ , of all the fool things a group of three men could do. They chit-chatted the whole night, the conversation never broaching anything remotely interesting. Brock had been hit in the head their last op out. That must’ve been what was going on. Jack kept trying to meet his eye, convey to him how fucking awkward this was, but every time they glanced at each other Brock had a glint in his eye, mischievous and deadly.

After they finished eating and were walking back to the car and Steve’s bike, Brock pulled Steve into a small alleyway between two buildings. Jack followed along, peaking over his shoulder to make sure no one had noticed.

“What the hell are you doing, Brock?” he asked softly. Brock had pinned Rogers to the grimy brick wall of the building and was holding him steady with a hand on his chest.

Rogers wasn’t fighting back.

“Watch this,” Brock whispered.

His hand slid up and wrapped firmly around Steve’s neck, his other hand just barely ghosted over Steve’s crotch.

“Brock, let him g—“

Steve moaned when Brock ran a single finger over the bulge in Steve’s pants. His eyes fluttered closed as Brock squeezed his neck. His hips bucked up from the wall. Jack’s jaw dropped.

“Tell Jack what you told me, Stevie.”

“I told— I said— nobody wants to touch me. Nobody fucking touches me. They treat me like a statue in a museum and it’s been seventy years since I got fucked.”

“Seventy years is a long time huh, Stevie?”

Steve nodded, face flushed clearly even in the terrible low glow of the streetlight. 

“I told you we should sleep with him, Jack.”

“What the hell?” Jack replied, awestruck. 

“He’s desperate for it, aren’t you, Steve?”

“Yes…” Rogers whispered.

“You want us to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Y-yes…”

Brock and Jack exchanged a look. Jack could see the hunger in Brock’s eyes, sure it was mirrored in his own. They had shared people in the past, but this was different. This was Steve fucking Rogers; more than that, this was Steve Rogers practically keening to be touched, _to be fucked_.

“What do you say, Stevie?”

_“Please…”_

Oh, he wasn’t keening for it. He was begging. Just how Brock liked ‘em. Which meant it was just how Jack liked ‘em.

* * *

“Come on, pup,” Jack hissed into his ear that first night as he fucked Steve hard from behind. Steve moaned back around Brock’s dick, gagging a little. “You gonna come for me? You gonna come with a cock in your mouth and a cock in your ass?”

At the words Steve Rogers had come so hard, Jack was afraid he would pass out. No one was even touching his damn cock. The boy was desperate. Jack and Brock continued to fuck him brutally from both ends as he hung limp between them, moaning, hungry and strung out. The two of them came inside of him nearly at the same time. When he finished, Jack threw Steve down on the bed roughly, and grabbed Brock, smashing their faces together, biting his lips and claiming him, thanking him.

Steve was watching them when they broke apart, stroking his cock, already growing hard once more, staring up at them, pupils blown wide, lips pink and swollen.

“Get the ring,” Brock whispered to Jack. Jack stood from the bed and strode to the closet, turning around at the sound of Steve whimpering and seeing Brock squeezing him tight at the base of his cock. Steve’s hips were jerking up on their own, desperately seeking friction. Brock grinned over at him and Jack grabbed the cock-ring and one of their larger anal plugs for good measure. He tossed the ring over to Brock who caught it deftly with one hand and in a smooth motion wrapped the soft, just barely stretchy rubber ring around Steve’s cock.

Brock and Jack had never much liked using the cock-ring; it wasn’t really their style. Or rather, it was Brock’s style, but he didn’t like using it on himself or Jack. He liked to use it on people who didn’t know any better than to stay away from the two men. He got a glint in his eye when he teased bedmates. Just one of the many things that made Jack fall in love with him.

It might have been a hair too small for Steve, but Brock didn’t seem to mind as he reached for the plug in Jack’s hand. Steve squirmed on the sheets and Jack got back on the bed and pulled one of Steve’s legs up towards his chest, exposing his ass while Brock covered the plug in lube before pushing it in with one great thrust. Steve yelped and bit his lip. The plug settled deep inside of him, and, from the look on his face and the way he was trembling, Jack knew that it had to be brushing against his prostate. His hips kept undulating up and down without his leave, he was covered in a sheen of sweat. He kept glancing between Brock and Jack, waiting.

Jack smirked at Brock’s feral grin and gave an exaggerated yawn, trying not to laugh at Steve’s face, at his eyes growing wide, his eyebrows almost hitting his hairline. Brock stretched and cracked his neck before settling down next to Steve on the bed, reaching over and taking one of his wrists in hand, playing with Steve’s fingers affectionately. Jack turned off the lights and crawled into bed on Steve’s other side, grabbing his other wrist.

“Wait,” Steve whispered in the dark. “What—“

“Go to sleep, pet.”

He whimpered, hips still moving, so Jack stuck Steve’s arm under his head to hold it still and pressed down on Steve’s stomach. Steve’s feet were slipping on the bed as he kept trying to get friction on his cock and Brock reached around as well, pinning Steve’s other arm under his body before pulling Steve tight and keeping him still.

“Wait, wait, I thought—“

“Shh, Stevie. Go to sleep,” Brock said.

“You can’t just—“

Jack pinched his nipple hard, and Steve hissed and went quiet. He wriggled around still, but did not say anything else. He and Brock looked over Steve’s chest and met each other’s eye one last time. This was definitely the start of something special. Jack started to doze off, running a hand up and down Steve’s chest over, and over, feeling the tense, quivering muscles beneath Steve’s skin. 

 

A few hours later Jack found himself waking up to Steve Rogers, hard and purple from the tight cock ring, strung out, sweating and needy, keening quietly into the morning air. Jack watched him for a few moments; Steve had not noticed he was awake yet. He was a sight to behold. Jack couldn’t even think of a porno where someone looked as desperate to come, to be touched as this kid did. He finally reached over and ran a soft hand over his face.

“Shh, puppy. Don’t want to wake up Brock.” And of all things, Steve nodded, and bit his lip, growing quiet once more. “Good boy.”

Jack knew they were in trouble when Steve smiled at him so wide it was blinding. He grinned back and pushed sweat-damp hair off of Steve’s brow and watched Steve close his eyes, and bite his lip once more and settle deeper into the bed between him and Brock, trying (and failing) to hold still.

When they finally let him come — after Brock woke up and padded through the house; to the bathroom, to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, to the tiny laundry room to grab a clean shirt — he could barely even make a sound, he was so wrecked. It took Steve’s whole body with it. He collapsed onto the bed in a shaking heap when it was done. Brock fucked him one more time, and Steve took Jack’s cock in hand and started stroking it. Brock and Jack both came and got up to make breakfast and shower respectively. Steve lay on the bed, exhausted, uncertain until the two men switched places in the kitchen and bathroom and Brock murmured, “Come on, don’t want to be late for work, Steve.”

Steve stared at Brock for a moment, as if he had completely forgotten about anything outside of this room before slowly, achingly pulling himself up to sitting and slowly trying to get to his feet. He could barely move, and Brock chuckled and pulled him up and pushed him towards the shower, while Jack headed to the kitchen to start making toast.

* * *

Steve followed them home again the next night, and then every night. Like a puppy. At every turn the nickname was appropriate. He wanted to please Jack and Brock, he wanted to be with them. Like a puppy he got sad when they were apart, and like a puppy he lit up when they were together. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging when they walked towards him in the hall at the Triskillion. He’d probably even fetch a ball if they threw it.

“So you’ve got no hard limits, is what you’re saying?” Jack asked a few nights later. They were seated in the living room eating pizza and this dinner was much, much more interesting than their first one. Steve was naked, for one thing, where Brock and Jack were still clothed, and the pizza was way better than the fancy shit at the restaurant.

“No,” Steve said with a shy smile. “I guess not.”

Jack hummed. “That’s…” 

_Unhealthy,_ the responsible, adult part of Jack’s brain supplied. _Indicative of some possible trauma or low self esteem_. But Jack and Brock exchanged a glance, and he knew they were both thinking.

_That sounds pretty fucking fun._

“I swear to fuck, Jack, I think he’ll even let us shit in his mouth.”

Jack glanced at Steve who closed his mouth, who pointedly did not say anything along the lines of “Wait, no, that’s not on the table.”

You know, like a sane person would.

“Holy fuck.” Jack murmured. 

“You’re lucky we’re not into that kinda thing, Stevie.”

“What are you into?” he asked.

The two men were quiet as they regarded Steve. Brock was into _torment_ , if Jack was being perfectly honest. He really, really got off on watching people fall apart. Or rather, he got off on making people fall apart. He’d make teasing last for days, weeks, months if he could, but usually their third person never lasted that long. They would come to their senses. Steve so far had not had any such notions.

Jack was into Brock. Jack would do anything to make Brock happy. Jack was into breaking people while Brock was watching because that was what made Brock come. They were well-matched that way, because Jack was good at breaking people. Hell, he had broken Brock and now the two of them were inseparable.

And both of them wanted to fuck Steve until he couldn’t walk anymore. That was a given.

“Seeing what you’ll do,” Brock finally answered for the both of them.

Steve’s eyes went a little wider at that and he fell quiet, a now-familiar blush on his cheeks. It was true. They had kept pushing Steve these past few days, but he seemed game for anything and everything. It was intoxicating. Part of Jack wanted to just keep digging and digging and see what it was that would make him finally snap, make him break, just because he knew when it happened Brock would grin that raw, bright-eyed grin that Jack fell in love with.

He’d do anything to see that grin. He loved to make Brock happy.

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Maybe that was the beginning of the end, Jack couldn’t be sure.

“And what are you into, Steve?”

His chin jutted out just a little bit, his gaze was steely. He grinned, it did not meet his eyes. “Whatever you can dish out.”

Jack reached across the sofa and took Steve by the chin. Steve very carefully put his plate of pizza onto the coffee table and almost held his gaze. He turned away at the last minute, staring at the ground.

“You’re gonna be so sorry you said that, pup.”

Steve smirked, though still didn’t look up at them. “Try me.”

* * *

Okay, Steve Rogers had one hard limit. He didn’t know it was a hard limit though; he did not know about safe words and the usual bullshit that came with kinky sex, so Jack and Brock would just watch him go a little tight around the eyes and pretend it didn’t bother him.

Steve Rogers _hated_ being called Captain America.

Brock and Jack didn’t abuse it, they just decided to save if for special occasions. Early on they both noticed Steve’s unease and knew they would put it to good use.

It took a lot of power to keep Jack from saying it though. Whispering about ‘Captain America the whore’ as he pounded into the man, or held him still while Brock would cut him with a knife in one hand and jack him off with the other. Because he was a whore. Steve did not even realize it, but he was such a whore for their attention that it was almost painful to watch. It was insanity. The kid had absolutely no self-preservation skills, no self-worth.

He wanted to bite into Steve’s flesh and eat the kid raw, because that would make Brock come.

And he wondered if super-soldier blood would taste different than human. It would never be as sweet as Brock’s blood, but Jack would put money down that Steve’s blood would be a close second.

* * *

“Hey, did you order anything?” Jack called out as he stepped into the apartment going through the mail a few nights later. He was squeezing a padded envelope with his name on it, trying to remember if he was expecting any packages. He threw the bills down on the small table in the entry, and stepped further into the apartment.

“We’re in here.”

Jack stepped through the entry into the living room, following the sound of breathy moans. He leaned against the doorframe while Brock finished tying off the last of the rope.

Steve Rogers was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. He was lying on the leather couch, writhing. His arms were trapped behind his back and there were red ropes criss-crossed over his chest and shoulders, moving down his body. It was wound between his legs, and Jack guessed there was rope between his asscheeks, the rope holding in a plug or vibrator, a knot pressing against his perineum nice and tight if he knew Brock.

And he knew Brock. He knew Brock well enough to know that the thinner cord wrapped around Steve’s cock and balls was probably a little too tight; same with the adjustable nipple clamps on Steve’s chest.

The ropes went all the way down his legs, leaving Steve completely immobile. He was gagged, and wearing a thick blindfold.

“Aw, look at you, pup,” Jack hummed as he stepped around the couch to Brock. He ran his hand through Steve’s hair and Steve flinched at the touch.

“He can’t hear you. Earplugs,” Brock said.

“Right.” He spared one more look at Steve before turning to Brock and kissing him. It was a little easier, knowing Steve could not hear them or see them. Jack was never one to shy away from an audience but he was a private man by nature.

“Sorry,” Brock said when they broke apart. “You were asking something?”

“Yeah. You order something?”

“Oh yeah. New toy.” He snorted. “For our new toy.”

Jack did not deign the bad joke with a response. “Why’s it shipped to me?”

“eBay.”

“Ah.” Jack was the one with the eBay account, Brock handled Amazon. As a concession, they ended up sharing an Etsy account under ‘Brock Rollins’ which made Jack go a little hot in the cheeks whenever something came from there (it was thankfully very rare that either of them found something they wanted from Etsy, which Jack thanked his lucky stars about semi-regularly).

“Open it.”

Jack tore the envelope open and reached inside. He smirked when he saw what Brock had ordered laying innocently in his hand. He toyed with it just a little bit, flipping it over, testing it, feeling the leather.

“You like it?”

“Love it. Gonna use it now?”

“No. I’ve been doing some planning. Thinking about remodeling the spare room. Making it a little more fun. A little more super-soldier proof?”

Jack cocked an eyebrow. “Ain’t that a bit much?”

“I think we should tell him,” Brock whispered. “I want to tell him. I want him to be completely gone, tied up so he can’t get away and desperate to come and then we tell him and watch what happens, Jack. Then I want to lock him in. I want to keep him. Make him ours, make him forget his name. And I want him wearing this when we do.”

Jack did not even have to think about it. “Anything you want, baby. Ain’t even a question, you know that.”

Brock kissed him, deep and hard. Jack threw the package onto a chair when they broke apart and pushed him down onto the couch, onto Steve’s legs. Steve gave a startled yelp behind his gag and squirmed on the couch underneath Brock. Jack kissed Brock once more, pressing him down into the couch, ignoring Steve, lips locked filthy and slow, fucking his mouth with his tongue. 

Steve gave a small whine beneath them and Jack looked and saw Brock had been grinding down on Steve’s crotch as they kissed, pressing almost brutally hard against the hard cock with his ass, the rough material of his jeans probably making Steve’s skin raw.

“You’re so mean,” Jack whispered into Brock’s skin before biting down on his neck.

“He likes it, it’s fine.”

Jack snorted and started to undo Brock’s pants, reaching down between his leg and taking a firm grip. Brock groaned and his hips jerked up, which caused Steve to twitch and writhe some more. Jack started jerking Brock off, twisting at the head of his cock just the way the man liked it, and Brock kissed him again. Just as he was about to finish, Brock grabbed Jack’s wrist and made him stop. He took his cock in hand and twisted over and came all over Steve’s chest and face. Steve arched up against the ropes for a moment before crashing back down, breathing deep through his nose, desperate and keening.

Brock slumped back down on the couch, on Steve. “Should I whip something up for dinner?”

“I was thinking of ordering in.”

“You sure? I could—”

“Yeah. You want Italian? Gino’s?” Of course Brock would, it was his favorite.

“You’re too good to me.”

Jack kissed him again, softer this time. It was going to be a good night.

* * *

Their nights started taking on a routine. Truss Steve up in some contortionist pose or another, make him hard, refuse him the chance to come and then one or both of them would leave him hanging wherever they deemed fit and went to work on the construction of the spare room.

Steve liked ropes. Steve liked gags, the bigger the better; some days Jack was certain they would break his jaw before he told them a gag was too big. Steve liked nipple clamps a lot, enough so that he would pout a little when Brock or Jack decided not to use them. Steve liked getting hurt, and Jack liked hurting him, so every time there was a pout or Steve acted up, they both enjoyed Jack giving him a good slap in the face. 

He wasn’t really punishing him. Steve had no idea what real punishment was. But a hard slap made his pupils wide and he was desperate for more.

Steve loved getting fucked, and hard, even more than he loved sucking cock (which he loved and was getting better at; the gag reflex was still something they needed to work on though). Naturally he loved being allowed to come and Jack and Brock decided early on that he was only allowed to come with one of them in his ass, or when they said. Sometimes they would keep him from coming for days. They would fuck him and the put a plug in to keep their come inside of him and he loved that too.

“You enjoying yourself, pet?” Jack asked one night. “We haven’t exactly been nice to you.”

He was hoping that would prompt Steve to act reasonable, to negotiate a little. Maybe it was the Captain America thing, but part of Jack wanted Steve to win this fight. Steve was losing so badly and he didn’t even notice. He didn’t even know he was up against anything at all.

“It feels good,” he confessed. “Like I’m useful. You two are liking it, right?”

In any normal situation, Jack knew that was not exactly a healthy approach to this. Really he and Brock should not be encouraging that sort of thinking at all. But this was Steve fucking Rogers, and he was possibly the most perfect toy they might ever find. He was willing to be a little lenient in terms of what constituted safe, sane and consensual.

And Brock loved Steve. He wasn’t in love with Steve, but he definitely had not grown bored with him yet. Jack suspected it would be a long time before that happened, and certainly not before they told him their little secret. Jack was content to watch Brock torture the boy for hours, if only for that dopey, feral grin he wore when he finished with Steve for the night. Whatever made Brock happy. This was easy.

* * *

Jack had something special planned for Brock’s birthday. Steve was, unsurprisingly, eager as hell. Anything to make Brock smile at him. Jack could understand that. Brock’s toothy grin affected him as well.

“So where’d you learn to do makeup?” Steve asked with his eyes closed as Jack ran primer over his face.

“A queen named Leroy in Harlem. Hold still.”

“Brock likes this sort of thing?”

“Brock likes you. This is just gonna make him like you even more.”

“Do you like me?”

Jack blinked and stopped for a moment to meet Steve’s eye. “You worried about that?”

“I know you didn’t want me at the beginning.”

“I was skeptical, but I’m not anymore. I’d do anything for Brock.”

“I just—“ he paused and bit his lip. “You and Brock came first. I don’t—”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, puppy. Me and Brock are solid. You’re a bonus, okay? He likes having you around. Which means I like having you around.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled and pinched Steve’s cheek.

Steve blushed and Jack started working on his face once more. He was good looking before, despite the slightly crooked nose, but a little contouring, a little mascara would make the look come together. He added eyeshadow and eyeliner, dabbed out the odd blemish or two with concealer, added rouge and finally lipstick.

He nodded approvingly. “God, those lips were made for cock, puppy.”

Steve blushed hard enough it shined through the foundation.

“Right. Stand up, let’s get you dressed.”

Maybe the black corset — probably pulled a little too tight — and lacy stockings over freshly shaved legs was overkill, but it was not nearly so ostentatious as the red bow he tied around Steve’s hard cock, concealing the cock ring. He left Steve wriggling on the bed, a small plug to keep him open and with his hands tied behind his back while Jack went to go pick up the cake from the bakery after taking a picture on his phone.

He met Brock at the door when he returned. “Hey, wanted to surprise you.”

“Yeah?” They kissed easily and opened the door, heading towards the kitchen to put the cake away. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Steve’s in the bedroom. I was thinking about what we could do with him that was special. Prettied him up for you, but the job’s not done.”

Jack told Brock what he had been planning, and Brock nearly giggled at the prospect. He kissed Jack once more and took his hand and all but ran to the bedroom. Brock gasped at the sight of Steve on the bed. Jack couldn’t blame him. He looked incredible. His shy smile at Brock was adorable, and Brock’s grin made it all worth it.

“Do you have the stuff?” he asked Jack moving to sit on the bed next to Steve.

“Yeah. Let me grab it.”

Jack dug around in the closet to the sound of Steve biting back a moan and Brock chuckling. He found the special clamp and needles and the small box of jewelry. When he came around to the other side of the bed and started laying things out, Steve’s brow furrowed. 

“Fuck you’re pretty,” Brock murmured, running his thumb over Steve’s red lip. “I’d keep you like this forever.”

“You could,” Steve whispered back. All three of them paused quietly for a moment, stunned at the confession. It looked like Steve had not even realized the words were out of his mouth until it was too late. He turned away as best he could on the bed. “Sorry.”

Brock smiled. “Don’t be.” They were kissing and it was gorgeous to watch. Steve relaxed into it beautifully and Brock was claiming and firm. Jack ran his hand up and down the stocking on Steve’s thigh and Steve trembled underneath them. When Brock and Steve broke apart, Jack handed Brock the long clamp.

“What is that?” Steve asked.

“You’ll see,” he said setting it on Steve’s stomach for a moment. He started playing with Steve’s chest, mounding his pecs together. Jack was mesmerized. Brock would roll the nipples between his fingers and Steve would keen, arching up into the touch. “God, look at those tits, Jack,” Brock hummed. “Like a girl’s.”

Jack smiled. Steve’s chest might have been Brock’s favorite part of the man. When they found out how sensitive Steve’s nipples were, Brock had spent hours playing with them. Jack knew if he hadn’t been wearing the cock ring at the time — which was now one of Brock’s favorite things — Steve might have come from the attention on his chest alone. Now they were a source of much amusement between Jack and Brock.

“You like that, pet?” Jack asked Steve, already knowing the answer. He reached up and took one of Steve’s nipples and toyed with it. “You like us playing with your tits?”

“Y-yesss,” Steve whispered obediently. They had also established early on that Steve had to answer any question when asked unless he was gagged; even then if he could nod or shake his head he was expected to do so. Realistically, to Steve it might seem as if they were going to use it to check in with him, but it was more because Brock and Jack loved hearing him confess anything and everything when prompted. His eyes had fluttered closed and he was writhing on the bed, chest heaving.

“Your nipples are so sensitive, Stevie,” Brock murmured into Steve’s neck. “But they’re so plain.” Steve frowned a little — he did not handle criticism well, but hid any disappointment very quickly. Jack had noticed, but he was not sure Brock did. Jack ended up trying to be nice to Steve when he wasn’t slapping him around. It was strange, really. Whatever disappointment Steve was feeling at the comment however left quickly when Brock moved down and took a soft bite of the flesh on Steve’s chest. “We need to give them a little pop of color, don’t you think?”

“W-what?”

Brock didn’t answer, and he and Jack kept toying with Steve’s nipples. After a moment, Jack took both of them in hand while Brock reached over him and grabbed the piercing clamp and needle. Jack had pulled out a few different options and Brock chose two barbell piercings with small, blue sapphire gems on each side. Surprisingly tasteful. Steve was completely lost to anything other than the feeling of having his nipples played with and did not notice what Brock was doing at all, did not even notice when Brock put the clamp on his right nipple. Brock held his chest steady with one hand, balancing the clamp against his fingers, and with a swift motion shoved the needle through Steve’s nipple in the opening of the clamp.

Steve screamed, hips jerking up off the bed, mouth falling open as he moaned, his body looking for any kind of friction on his neglected cock, the red bow on his cock fluttering around. A whimpering keen left his throat with every breath and he glanced between Jack and Brock desperate, face flushed, lips wet and red as he stared with unfocused eyes, blinking through an aroused haze. Brock threaded the first barbell through and screwed the end piece into place.

Steve was panting deep lungfuls of air and shaking when he finally looked down his chest at the piercing.

“Wow…” he breathed.

“You like it?”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t pull his eyes away. “It feels—” he was blinking quickly, eyes blown wide.

“Ready for the next one?”

“Give me a minute?”

Steve’s head fell back on the pillow and he was shaking, hips pushing up into the air uselessly. Jack glanced down and saw his cock was hard and leaking, even with the cock ring.

“Think if we do the next one, you’ll come, pet?”

“Without question,” Steve sighed.

“Well, then I guess you have to earn it first.”

Steve whimpered but shut his mouth, hips wriggling on the sheets as Brock and Jack ran their hands over his skin, over the corset and stockings. With a small look however, Jack and Brock stopped, leaving Steve with nothing. They grinned and Brock crawled over Steve and started to kiss Jack and Jack gladly started to undo Brock’s pants, freeing his cock. Brock took off his shirt and shimmied out of his pants and lay down next to Steve on the bed. Jack helped Steve up to his knees to straddle Brock’s lap. He pulled out the plug (Steve groaned obscenely at that), and guided Steve onto Brock’s dick. Steve’s fists flexed in the ropes behind his back and Brock’s hands splayed over his hips, wrapping around where the edge of the corset met Steve’s skin, pale and strong against the black satin.

“Earn it, Steve.”

Steve nodded and started slowly moving up and down on the cock inside of him. His mouth hung open as he worked himself over, clenching around Brock and moaning like a whore.

“Touch it,” he whispered. “Please…”

“You ask so pretty, how can I say no?” Brock smirked and reached up and pinched Steve’s freshly pierced nipple and Steve sobbed. Jack was sure he as clenching impossibly tight around Brock and reached over and started to stroke Steve’s dick which made him sob once more.

“You’re so pretty, pet,” Jack whispered in Steve’s ear. “And you’re going to look so pretty when we do your other tit. You’re not even gonna be able to sleep they’ll feel so good. You’re gonna keep them in all the time, you hear me? Every time you move, every time you change shirts, every time you throw that damn shield you’ll feel them, and you’ll know that you’re ours.”

“Oh-oh god,” Steve moaned.

Brock sat up and claimed Steve’s mouth and brought his hand down to stroke Steve’s cock along with Jack’s. Steve made the prettiest noises, and Brock swallowed them down. He was whimpering and writhing on Brock’s dick, trying to press his chest against Brock’s to get friction on the piercing.

Brock flipped him over onto his back again and started to fuck him deep and hard, pushing Steve’s leg up and over his shoulder.

“Do the other one,” Brock said to Jack. “I wanna feel him come from the needle.”

Jack reached down and took off the cock ring and Steve squeezed his eyes shut, face scrunching up in an effort not to come until it was time.

Jack grabbed the piercing clamp and took hold of his other nipple. He lay his hand on Steve’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with labored breath. Brock held the clamp still and Jack carefully thrust in the needle.

Steve came with a shout, and then Brock came with a shout and Jack was the only one with any sense left, and threaded the second barbell through and screwed the end on while Steve and Brock were kissing, sloppy and wild, coming down from their orgasms.

Brock found the plug and put it back in Steve’s ass and started sweeping up come off of the black corset and putting his fingers into Steve’s open mouth. He swallowed it down eagerly, hungry and moaning. The corset was going to have to be dry cleaned and Jack was not looking forward to taking it in and explaining the stains. He’d probably just make Steve do it. 

Steve was panting and keened when Jack leaned in and licked his nipple. He was quivering and lost, just the way Brock liked him, which meant it was just the way Jack liked him. His lashes were fluttering open and closed and his eyes rolling back a little as he tried to catch his breath.

Jack smirked at the two of them as they made out like horny teenagers and got up from the bed and went and brought the cake back from the kitchen with a pair of forks. They helped Steve sit up and rest against the headboard of the bed but made no move to untie him. They ate straight from the box, occasionally feeding Steve a bite. Every now and then Brock or Jack would flick at the new piercings and Steve would hiss, bend over on the bed or squirm, a bright flush on his cheeks bleeding down his chest.

“We can get you some other piercings if you don’t like the blue,” Jack said.

“It’s Brock’s favorite color. I like it.”

Jack smiled and ruffled Steve’s hair affectionately, giving him another bite of cake. “But there’s some other pieces we can use too, switch them out. I bet Brock’ll want to put on some rings maybe.”

“Any particular reason?”

Jack turned Steve’s head and forced him to meet his eye. “Because you can hook ‘em onto other things, Stevie. Seems like the perfect way to leash up a pet.”

Steve gaped for a moment. “Oh,” he said softly, eyes glazing over just a little bit.

“You can say no,” Brock supplied, like he sometimes did when they were playing with Steve.

_“No you can’t,_ ” said a voice in Jack’s mind, but it didn’t matter. He never said no.

“But I’d love to see you with nipple rings, pulling your tits up with a chain, nice and tight…”

Steve squirmed a little. He was nearly drooling at the thought of it. “I want that. I want to do it.”

“Good boy.”

Steve beamed at the two of them. His praise kink was going to get him in trouble some day, Jack mused idly, before realizing that him and Brock were the trouble he was thinking of. He was already growing hard and his eyes were shifting between Jack and Brock. He bit his lip a little, waiting for something to happen.

Brock rolled his eyes, “Yes, Steve?”

“Jack hasn’t come yet.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Jack replied easily taking another bite of cake.

“He deserves something, though,” Brock hummed. “He prettied you up so good.”

“Why don’t you boys just try and one-up me for my birthday, huh?”

“When is your birthday?” Steve asked.

“‘bout a month from now.”

“And what would you like?”

Jack and Brock exchanged a smirk. “I’m sure Brock will help you think of something,” Jack replied at last.

“Got a little crush there, Stevie?” Steve blushed. “Don’t worry, I like him too.”

“Because you’ve got good judgement in character, sure.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Jack snorted and got up from the bed, taking the forks and cake back to the kitchen while Brock started toying with Steve once more. He rinsed the forks and put them in the dishwasher and took a swig from the carton of milk to drown out the taste of chocolate from his mouth. He cracked his back as he walked back to the room and saw Steve kneeling on the floor, with his back against Brock’s knees on the edge of the bed.

“He really wanted to thank you, Jack. Are you gonna let him?”

Jack smirked and walked in front of Steve, running a hand through his hair, stroking his face. Steve was hard again already. Jack felt blood rushing between his legs at the sight of it. His makeup was a little messed up, but he was still gorgeous, his lips red and full and his eyes bright against the eyeliner, made just a little brighter with the glint of blue from the nipple barbells on his chest.

“He definitely has a crush on you,” Brock murmured.

“You’ll learn, pet. I’m just tall. Everyone gets a little lovestruck about it.”

“It’s how you got me,” Brock said.

“He was just dumb enough to stick around.”

Steve gave him one of his shy smiles. He could see Steve’s arms moving as his hands fidgeted a little behind his back in the ropes. Jack undid his pants and pulled out his cock. Steve’s lips wrapped around it and he moaned happily. He was so eager and he had grown so much better at this than he was when they first started playing with him. Brock reached around started toying with the nipple piercings once more and the loud noise Steve made shot straight through Jack’s cock and he almost came right then and there. But not yet, Jack wanted to look down and see those perfect red lips on his cock, wanted to hold off as long as he could. He cupped the back of Steve’s head and thrust in deep, feeling his throat spasm around the head of his cock; he gagged a little but seemed well enough for Jack to continue fucking his throat.

Jack looked down once more and Steve met his eyes, peering up through too long lashes and—

Jack came with a groan in Steve’s mouth, and the man lapped it up, hungry, needy little noises coming from his throat. Brock pushed his hair back from his forehead and pulled Steve off of Jack’s cock and back against his lap, reaching down to rub his chest once more. Steve’s hips were wiggling where he knelt and Jack sighed and found the cock ring on the bed, kneeling down to slip it back onto Steve, who gave a small whine but otherwise made no complaint. It made him harder and his hips thrust up a little at Jack’s touch.

Steve leaned back and looked up at Brock upside down from his lap. “Happy birthday,” he said softly.

Brock smiled and patted his check before turning up and pulling Jack down into a bruising kiss.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Jack whispered when they broke apart.

“It was perfect.”

* * *

It was a usual Tuesday night, probably even calmer than their usual nights. The three of them had been working the whole weekend through Monday and were all exhausted. Jack was sitting against the headboard, working on his post-op report while Steve and Brock were making out next to him, lazy and slow. Brock was still clothed, but Steve was naked as the day he was born.

So yes, a usual Tuesday.

“Think I can make him come like this? Not even touching his cock?”

Jack peered down and saw Steve squirming a little on the sheets while Brock slowly circled one of Steve’s piercings with a light finger. He went back to his report with a resigned, “No, but you sure as hell are gonna try anyway.”

“Not even gonna watch?”

“Gotta finish this report.”

“I’ll let you know if I think I’m getting close.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out. Your toy is loud.”

“Sorry,” Steve whispered. “I can—“

Jack almost rolled his eyes. “You’re fine pet. I like your noises.”

He met Steve’s eye and Steve blushed and nodded, gasping softly when Brock went back to touching Steve’s nipples, first one than the other. Jack peered down and admired the scene for a moment before going back to his report. Occasionally Steve’s leg would brush up against Jack’s as he writhed on bed, but he would pull away. Steve was trying not to react, trying not to be loud and bother Jack and Jack almost rolled his eyes once more. Kid walked around on eggshells around Jack and it was getting old.

And it was leaking into work, if Jack was perfectly honest. Not in any way noticeable to an outside observer, but in little things; the way Steve walked half a step behind Brock and Jack sometimes and couldn’t meet Jack’s eye on the rare occasion. Jack sighed. He’d talk to Brock about it.

It was just a crush, but Jack had fucked Steve senseless on multiple surfaces. He had no reason to keep acting this shy.

This last op had been tough, though. That might’ve been it, Jack thought. Steve had been fighting hard almost the entirety of it. Part of Jack just wanted to sleep for about twelve days, so he could imagine that Steve, who had been running harder, longer and making more crucial decisions was inches away from breaking apart. He was surprisingly low in confidence to begin with, but when he was tired he grew morbidly uncertain in himself. He didn’t show it, of course, but Jack saw.

Brock wasn’t tired. Brock was turned on. At this point Jack was not sure Brock was even human. This op had just the right amount of shooting people so that Brock would probably fuck Steve for days to burn it off.

Steve jerked a little and reached up and clung to the pillow under his head as Brock started working on one of his nipples in earnest now. Jack went back to his report, going through the post-op questionnaire mindlessly. Steve’s breathing grew heavier next to him and Jack glanced out of the corner of his eye. Brock’s mouth was on Steve’s nipple, his other hand toying with the piercing. Steve’s eyes had closed and he was losing himself to the touch.

Shit, he might come from Brock playing with his tits. His chest was heaving and his feet were slipping on the sheets. He wasn’t wearing the cock ring right now, so really, anything was possible. Jack set his work tablet down on the nightstand and crossed his arms in front of his chest, studying the scene.

With slightly wider eyes Jack realized that Steve _was_ going to come from Brock playing with his tits. Brock picked up on it too and had doubled his efforts. Jack cracked his neck and pushed Brock’s hand away to roll Steve’s nipple easily. Steve keened when he realized Jack had joined in, even though Jack was just sitting on the bed barely touching him. His hips were pushing up off the bed, and his cock was hard and leaking onto his stomach. He gnawed on his bottom lip and small breathy noises fell from his throat.

“Jesus Christ, Rum,” Jack murmured.

“Come on, Stevie. Jack didn’t think you would come. Show him.”

One hand was still fisted in the pillow. Steve was close, so close. He gasped for air and looked up at Jack. Their eyes met, his other hand found Jack’s leg and gripped his pants hard, and that was when he came.

That went straight to Jack’s ego, that’s for sure. Brock saw it too, and gave Jack a playful shove while Steve crashed down from his orgasm. At least he had the sense to cover his blushing face at the deed. Sure, coming untouched was kind of impressive, but also kind of ridiculouse specially from just playing with your tits. Brock chuckled into Steve’s neck before reaching down and smearing the come on Steve’s stomach around his skin.

Steve only relaxed a little when Jack reached over and ran his hand through Steve’s hair. Brock pulled his hands down from his face and started kissing him again.

“Holy god,” he moaned when Brock finally broke off. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Us neither.”

Steve was about to let go of Jack’s pant-leg when Jack stopped him with a hand over his. Their eyes met again and Steve swallowed and nodded and left his hand there, but was now barely gripping it, as if he was afraid he was disturbing Jack too much. It was a start at any rate. Jack wanted to roll his eyes, but he thought if he did, it would be a blow to Steve’s very unsteady self confidence. They’d work on that.

The kid was exhausted. He was trying so hard to be _good_ for the two men. And trying so hard in every other aspect of his life. Jack could see it now in the way he closed his eyes and collapsed back on the pillow, letting Brock touch him, but not reacting nearly so much. He would try, but his heart wasn’t in it, especially after that last op. Jack sighed and checked the time on his phone. Bed time.

Steve squeaked again and twitched which caused Jack to look down at him on the bed. He saw Brock fiddling with Steve’s piercings once more, pinching hard.

“Stop. Be nice,” Jack said. “He had a rough weekend.” He swatted Brock’s hand away and reached into the nightstand drawer to grab a wet-wipe and cleaned off the drying semen from Steve’s stomach.

“You spoil him; he’s fine.”

“Brock, that’s enough.”

The subby twink Jack knew was still in there immediately followed the order. Brock was still his, no matter how much he had grown since he was a kid. He covered it up with sass and bravado, but Brock would follow Jack’s orders blind.

“Fine. But you’re just being nice to him because he’s got a crush. Don’t think I don’t see it.”

Jack snorted. “Yes, out of the two of us, _I’m_ the nice one.”

“Oh shit. I almost forgot!” Brock got off the bed — Steve let out a soft whine when Brock gave one of his nipples a final pinch — and started digging through the underwear drawer. He threw a small package onto Steve’s chest. Steve sat up on the bed and eyed it warily. “See, I’m the nice one,” Brock said with a grin.

Steve wasn’t smiling.

His voice was soft when he finally said, “You didn’t have to—“

“Sure I did. Open it.”

Steve glanced at Jack who shrugged. Steve didn’t know about what they were doing in the spare room, and Brock had been ordering shit for it left and right and Jack couldn’t keep track. His guess was as good as Steve’s about what was in the package.

Steve carefully undid the tissue paper, any of the looseness and comfort he had before from his orgasm had vanished. He looked uncomfortable. It was odd, really, but Jack pieced it together. This was the first time either of them had done something for him. Even the piercings were presented as something for Brock’s benefit.

“Oh,” he whispered when the package was open.

Jack peered down into Steve’s lap at the package. He wasn’t sure who looked more comically shocked, him or Steve. He did not know how Steve was feeling, but Jack was forgetting his report entirely, blood rushing very much away from his brain.

It was a collar.

Collars weren’t really Brock’s thing at all. Jack knew he didn’t mind them, and could appreciate how useful they could be when holding someone still, and the aesthetic was nice but he just wasn’t all that into it.

No, collars were kind of Jack’s thing.

He’d never really gone for the slave/master thing that usually surrounded collars, or even the pet play thing that happened sometimes, despite his nickname for Steve. But there was just something about collars that sent a thrum of excitement through Jack. It was an ownership thing, he thought vaguely. He’d probably get off just as much, if not more if he branded Steve or Brock on the ass (Brock had vetoed that actually when Jack had suggested it when they were kids; it had been a surprising display of self-preservation on Brock’s part that Jack had yet to see happen again). He liked the idea of it. It was a mix of marking territory and claiming property, and having control over a person’s _being_.

Now his mouth was a little dry, and he met Brock’s gaze. The feral grin was there. Of course Brock realized there was distance between Steve and Jack. He was insane, but observant. Of course he would come up with something crazy to try and bridge the gap.

“You like it?” Brock asked them.

“Yes,” they both replied together.

Steve turned and met Jack’s eye, face red. He gaped at Jack, and Jack had to admit there was a newfound fondness for the kid now. He turned to face Steve, took the collar silently from his lap and brought it up to his neck. Steve was frozen, deer in the headlights in Jack’s gaze.

Jack wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen when he attached the collar. There was a notch at the buckle in the back too, a metal loop that could fit a small padlock to lock the collar on, and god, Brock knew what Jack liked. He licked his lips as he threaded the leather through the buckle, tight but not choking against the pale skin of Steve’s neck.

When he was done he rested his hands on Steve’s chest, and watched, amazed as all the tension left Steve’s body. It was as if he were a puppet and someone cut the strings. His eyes fluttered closed and his breathing grew deep and steady in his chest, mouth falling open a little.

The collar against his neck was perfect. Simple black leather with a silver o-ring in the front, bright like Steve’s piercings. Jack could stare at it for hours if he wanted. And Steve would let him. Steve was completely lost, incredibly unaware of anything. He slowly brought his hand up and ran his fingers along his new collar gently, eyes still closed.

“Do you like it, Stevie?” Brock whispered into his ear.

“Yes.”

“And you, Jack?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s good,” Jack replied afters swallowing. His hand joined Steve’s on the collar, ghosting the space where the leather met skin. “It’s so good.”

Steve hummed and smiled at him, opening his eyes. He was still blushing, still shy with Jack but this was something nice between them. Jack pressed their lips together. “Come on, it’s time to go to bed.”

He and Brock got out of their clothes and found boxers to sleep in, and Steve pulled on a pair of briefs. Jack tossed him a t-shirt as well and muttered something about staying warm, and Brock shoved him with a smirk teasing Jack about spoiling Steve. They used the can, brushed their teeth, washed their faces and moved back to the big bed. Steve usually lay on one side of the bed when they were just sleeping, curled against Brock’s side with Brock in the middle and Jack spooning around him. On special occasions Steve would get the middle. (Jack never took the middle of the bed, he couldn’t sleep between two people because it meant there was no clear exit).

Brock decided that this was one of those events that garnered a chance for Steve to sleep in the middle. They settled in and turned out the lights but something kept Jack from sleeping. He rolled over and leaned on his elbow above Steve who blinked up at him in the dark. Jack pulled down the neck of the t-shirt to look at the collar one more time.

“Do you want me to take it off?” he whispered, looking chagrined.

“No, keep it, pet.”

“We should get a tag for the ring,” Brock muttered not opening his eyes. “Didn’t think.”

“They print them at the Petsmart next to the grocery store.”

“Yeah, but do you think they’d have a problem with me getting one that says ‘cum dump sex puppy’?”

Jack and Brock chuckled for a bit. He was close enough to Steve that he could feel his cheeks heating up under his skin. Jack ran his knuckle down his face gently. “How about just ‘Puppy’ for now? Don’t think all that will fit on a tag, anyway.”

“We could always just get ‘Steve’.”

“No,” whispered a small voice. It was Steve. Through the shadows Jack could see him biting his lip. This was the first time he had ever said no to them. Even Brock quirked an eyebrow over to Jack. “Um. I mean— not that. I don’t—“ he stopped himself. 

“How about ‘Puppy’?” Jack suggested before Steve crashed in on himself, crippling self-doubt getting the better of him. “I think that’s better for this.”

Steve visibly relaxed and nodded.

_How fucked up do you have to be to not want to even be called your own name?_ Jack wondered. If he was really cruel he’d get one that said ‘Cap’ or even go whole hog and get ‘Captain America’ but Jack was not necessarily a cruel man. Brock and Steve liked it when he was, but it was not his default setting. He settled back down on the bed, flipping onto his stomach, making a point of putting a hand on Steve’s chest, fingers just barely brushing the metal o-ring.

“‘If found return to Brock and Jack’,” Brock snorted.

Jack felt Steve snort under his hand, and then curl in a little closer into Jack, pulling Brock along with him. He scrunched down and all but buried himself under Jack’s arm and chest, practically using Brock’s arm as a blanket over him. Jack’s hand moved to his neck to rest steadily on the collar, and the three of them went to sleep.

* * *

Jack was in his small windowless office typing up a report when there was a soft knock on the door. It opened and there was Steve poking his head in, blushing.

“Captain,” Jack said easily. “What can I do for you? The report on the Carrero Op might be a bit late, if that’s what you’re after. System crashed.”

He stepped in and closed the door behind him. “You don’t have to call me that… for this,” he said softly, slowly. He bit his lip.

Jack peered at him for a moment, assessing. “Did Brock send you?”

Steve looked relieved he didn’t have to say it out loud. “Yeah. He said you were having a bad day.”

He was. Over thirty pages of paperwork and reports he had filed had gotten lost in SHIELD’s system and he had to redo everything. And the new recruits he was training were fucking worthless. It had been just a shit day, and he should have been home, watching Brock fuck Steve brainless, but he was stuck here, on a Friday night no less. It was late, he had thought the building was empty. Steve wasn’t in his uniform either.

At least Jack wasn’t here alone now.

“Did he have anything in mind? Did you?”

“He said you should do whatever you want.” He bit his lip once more, looking anywhere but at Jack, face red in the low light of the desk lamp.

Jack stared at him until their eyes met; Steve glanced away, staring at the floor. Jack realized that the two of them had not really ever been alone together unless they were doing something for Brock. Steve was never really Jack’s to use. Furthermore, all three of them were very careful not to interact on this level when they were at work.

Steve looked uncomfortable. “Is this your hard limit, Steve?” he asked. “Doing this at work? Or with me?”

Steve shook his head, and Jack nodded, thinking.

“What do you want to do?”

“Whatever you want,” he said again. “Really.”

“That crush is going to get you in trouble.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Jack snorted and stood up from the desk studying Steve and walking around the room to lock the door behind him. Even now in the low lamp light Jack could see him blushing. God, the kid really did have a crush. Or at least was intrigued. Jack almost understood why. Brock explained it once. Jack was tall, a few inches taller than Steve, and far harder to read than probably any of the other members of the Strike team, which made him ‘mysterious’ (Brock’s word, not Jack’s). Jack liked it that way. But it had to be hard for a kid like Steve. Brock wore what he was thinking on his face when he was with Steve, where Jack never felt he had that luxury, even in private. Hell, save for his dead sister, Jack was pretty sure the only one who could tell what he was thinking at all was Brock. That was part of why Jack loved him. Steve was smart, but reading people wasn’t his strong suit to begin with, so a man like Jack must seem like trying to read a brick wall, impossible and unscalable.

“Take off your clothes.”

Steve made to unbutton his shirt when he paused. “Umm…”

“Yes?”

Steve bit his lip. Jack was surprised he hadn’t gnawed it off for the way he was always chewing at it when he was nervous. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, handing it to Jack.

“Brock said you’d want this.”

It was the collar. The little, heart-shaped tag was glinting in the light. ‘Puppy’ just barely readable.

“He was right.”

He nodded at Steve and watched appreciatively as the man took off his clothes, steady but efficient. The piercings shown bright against his blushed skin. Jack reached out and ran a thumb over the sapphire barbell and Steve shuddered.

“How’re these holding up? Healing okay?”

“Y-yeah, fine. I just—“

“What?”

“Scared of taking them out. Pretty sure the holes’ll close in five minutes.”

“That fast huh?”

“If not faster.”

“You twist ‘em, right? Make sure your skin doesn’t heal around them?”

“I try but…”

“But what? Brock’s not gonna like it if you’re not taking care of these.”

“Brock doesn’t like it when I come on my own, and twisting these…”

Jack snorted, catching on. Maybe once a week Brock would make Steve come playing with his nipples now that he knew what it did to him. If anything, Steve came faster from it than the first time.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to take care of that for you then, huh? I’ll make sure Brock pays special attention to these soon again?”

Steve’s face turned redder and Jack smirked. He looked Steve over. The kid was nervous as hell. Jack pulled his face close and kissed him, which did not help make him any less twitchy, but Jack thought he might have tasted Brock on the kid’s lips, which made this worth it. They stood very close, and Jack could tell Steve was trying to hold himself still. Jack ran the collar in his hand over Steve’s ribs, just barely a tickle and Steve tensed up, trying not to flinch.

“You scared, pet?”

“No.”

“You lying?”

“Umm… a little.”

Jack chuckled. “I’m gonna have to be here for hours, you know?”

“That’s okay. Brock said you should keep me for the whole night if you want.”

“He would.”

“The cock ring is the pocket of my pants if you want it.”

“Nah. That’s more Brock’s thing. I think I know what I’m going to do with you pet. You got lube? We should stretch you out.”

Steve did a little twist and showed Jack that there was already a small plug nestled inside of him. It was cute. He was so eager and sincere. _Look at me, all ready for you!_ Jack smirked and gave his ass a small grope which made Steve jump and flush.

He ran a finger down Steve’s neck and Steve twitched. Jack tried not to laugh, but the boy was strung tighter than a piano wire, and Brock wasn’t the only one who liked to play. He brought his whole hand up to Steve’s neck and wrapped it around, just holding it, not squeezing the air out. Steve was brutally aware of every little place their skin met. The way Jack liked it. Sometimes he would do the same thing with Brock. Move so slow Brock would just start to fall apart without ever being touched. No one would argue that Brock was not nearly so deliberate as Jack. Brock liked to torment. Jack liked to devour, slow, with his whole body, like a snake.

He buckled the collar around Steve’s neck. Steve was trying to hold still but a shudder passed through his body as Jack leaned forward into him, bringing his face close to Steve’s neck, less than an inch away from the leather, from Steve’s jaw; fingers circling the o-ring at the front before reaching up and feeling Steve’s pulse rapid-firing through the thick muscle of his neck.

“Stand at the desk. Lean down on your elbows.”

It took a moment for Steve to remember to breathe but he did as he was told, putting his ass on display after he regained some composure. Jack ran his hands up and down Steve’s thighs and Steve shivered in anticipation. Jack was slow, touching every inch of skin. Brock liked to make Steve suffer a little but Jack wanted to try something different. He wanted Steve to feel everything, to be left trembling and needy and desperate to come after only a few minutes, rather than the hours of waiting Brock put him through. Both approaches were good, but they had done it Brock’s way for so long.

Jack kissed Steve’s spine between his shoulder blades and Steve froze, tensing up before Jack ran his hands up and down Steve’s ribs and the kid all but melted into it. His lips moved slowly, _slowly_ down Steve’s back, and his hands wandered deliberately, gently massaging Steve’s chest, and sides just barely brushing against the piercings. Steve let out a soft, startled breath.

“Shh. Easy pet. Easy now…”

Jack knelt behind Steve and spread him wide, looking at the base of the plug inside of him, close enough that Steve could feel his breath. Goosebumps rose on Steve’s skin and his knees were quivering. Jack pulled out the plug and set it aside and blew a soft stream of air at Steve’s hole. It was gaping just a little from the plug, and he could see Steve clenching and then forcing himself to relax.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Easy puppy, let me take care of you now. You gotta hold still.”

Steve keened in the back of his throat and Jack saw him drop his head onto his arms on the desk. He smirked and nipped at one of his asscheeks and Steve jumped just a fraction; more of a flinch than a real movement. He moved his mouth closer and closer, kissing a trail over Steve’s skin until finally he placed a chaste kiss on Steve’s hole.

Brock had actually been the one to teach him how to eat a guy’s ass out. Which was weird. Brock was a total, nearly virginal twink when they first met, and Jack was in every other way the more experienced of the two save for this one thing. He certainly wasn’t the best at it, but he was definitely in the top ten percent after Brock’s careful tutelage. Or he hoped so anyway. He never got to practice it on anyone except Brock, so there was some bias in the numbers there. More importantly however, Jack had a funny feeling that no one had ever done this to Steve. From the way he was trembling and squirming on the desk as Jack started to lick him slow and firm, to the confused, aroused squeak he made when Jack started working his tongue and thumb inside of Steve at the same time.

“J-Jack, I’m going to—“ He swallowed back a high whine, his thighs going tight under Jack’s hands. He brought his hand to his own cock and wrapped his fingers tight around the base to stop himself. Jack almost started laughing into the kid’s ass. At least Brock taught him well.

Jack pulled back, placing a chaste kiss on Steve’s rear before reaching around and pulling Steve’s hand away, putting it back on the table.. “Come whenever you like tonight, pet. Told you we were doing things different than Brock.”

Steve stared at him over his shoulder, disbelief stark on his face before he gave Jack a tiny nod and bit his lip, pressing his forehead back against his arm. Jack reached around and tapped him on the mouth.

“Quit biting your lip, you’re gonna chew it clean off.”

Steve did not get to reply as Jack went back to the real business at hand. It did not take much longer for Steve to come onto the ground under the desk with a breathy moan. His knees almost gave out under him and Jack chuckled as he held Steve steady by the hips. Jack let him catch his breath and composure once more before standing up and moving back to his chair. He tapped Steve on the hip and Steve moved towards him on shaky legs. He was about to kneel down in front of Jack, mouth already opening to take his cock, when Jack stopped him.

Steve stared at him, confused, and Jack smirked. He turned him around with gentle hands on his hips. He undid his pants and pulled out his cock, hard and hot from eating Steve out, and brought Steve down onto his lap. Steve sank slowly onto Jack’s member, and his head fell back against Jack’s shoulder when he was down to the hilt. Jack smiled into his skin and grazed his teeth along Steve’s neck and the collar, hands reaching up and stroking Steve’s chest, before moving down to his cock once more. A tiny whine fell from Steve’s lips as Jack stroked the sensitive flesh. He wriggled in Jack’s lap, which made Jack chuckle and moan, hips bucking up and hitting Steve right where it mattered.

Steve didn’t know what to do with his hands. They floated around in front of him, on the armrests of the chair. At one particularly hard thrust from Jack, one hand shot back and reached around and found it’s way to Jack’s face, cupping around his head.

“S-sorry, sorry—

He was about to pull his hand away when Jack caught him by the wrist. “Leave it, pet. You’re doing good. You’re doing so good.”

Another whine came from Steve, and he had started moving his hips on his own, back and forth slow and deep on Jack’s cock, his fingers running through Jack’s hair softly, hands trembling. He was hard again, and Jack was envious of the boy’s refractory period. Each breath was moaning, whining, desperate, and Jack knew he was going to come again any minute.

“You gonna come on my cock, puppy? Just like our first time?”

That was enough. Steve came, a loud shout just barely made quiet by Jack’s quick hand over his mouth. He splashed over his chest and the floor, and Jack thanked his lucky stars that he had the foresight to turn the chair away from the pile of paper work he still had to get through. Jack came with a groan soon after, biting into Steve’s shoulder, pulling tight at the collar hard enough he could hear Steve gasping for breath.

They slumped back into the chair together and Jack ran his hand soothingly over Steve’s stomach. He could feel the muscles quivering under Steve’s skin, just barely damp from the first inklings of sweat.

Steve wasn’t thinking when he turned his face over and kissed Jack on the cheek. They both stared at each other for a startled moment, blinking. Steve turned bright red, but before he could sputter out an apology Jack took him by the chin and kissed him gently, opening his mouth up with a probing tongue and claiming him. Steve moaned again, melted and sated and boneless. 

Jack smiled and ran comforting circles over Steve’s skin, slowly bringing him back down to earth, bringing his hand up and running his fingers along the leather of the collar, toying with the little tag.

With another gentle tap, he got Steve to slowly pull off of him. He pulled out some wet-wipes from the desk drawer and cleaned them both off, and handed one to Steve to start working on the come that had fallen to the ground. When he finished Steve stood awkwardly for a moment as Jack zipped himself back up into his pants.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to leave?”

“Brock said to do whatever you want.”

“I’ve still got paperwork.”

“I can go if it’ll bother you.”

Jack peered at him contemplatively. “Stay for a minute. I know where I can put you.”

He cracked his back and untied his shoes, setting them aside from the desk. He opened the closet and poked around before finding a spare blanket and pillow for the rare night someone had to sleep over on the small cot in the next office. He patted Steve on the cheek as he passed and unfolded the blanket halfway and set it down on the floor under the desk, putting the pillow on top of it.

“Go sit, puppy,” Jack said softly.

Steve flushed bright red, and Jack thought _yes, this is it, this is where he draws the line,_ but was pleasantly surprised when Steve gave him one of his shy, lopsided smiles and bent down and curled onto the floor under the desk.

Jack sat down and tucked in his chair.

“Is it okay to touch you?” Steve asked, voice muffled a bit coming from under the desk.

“Sure thing, pet.”

Nothing happened right away, and Jack started working on his reports once more, typing away easily — better now that he had had a good fuck — when he felt it. Steve very, slowly, very tentatively moved his face and the pillow to Jack’s foot. He put a careful hand on Jack’s ankle and curled up around his leg, like a kid and a stuffed animal. In a few minutes, Jack heard the familiar sound of Steve’s even breathing, sleep taking him quickly and peacefully.

He peered down and almost laughed. Steve was a big guy. He had no right to be curled up this small, under the desk like an animal — _like a puppy_. The collar just completed the tableau.

Jack snuck his phone gingerly out of his pocket and snapped a picture.

‘Be home in a couple of hours,’ he typed out in a message to Brock. ‘Thanks for sending puppy my way.’

He sent the message along with the picture and got back to work.

That night when they finally made it home, Steve and Brock made out lazy and slow on the bed. “Jack let me come twice.”

Brock groaned, “You gotta stop spoiling him, Jack.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He snapped a picture of them both, naked and handsy and adorable on his bed as he puttered around for sweatpants, pulling him on to the sound of his two men moaning.

“Did— did you know you can put your mouth on someone’s ass?” Steve asked as Brock started moving down his chest.

Brock popped up and stared at Jack. “You gave him a rim-job?”

“Kid never had one before.

“You’re spoiling him!”

“Rewarding him for being so good to you.”

“You’re so full of it.”

Jack chuckled and crawled onto the bed, groping Brock’s ass as he passed. “I’m going to sleep.”

The last thing he was aware of was Steve softly asking Brock, “Can I try that on you?” and Brock laughing low and shoving Jack in the shoulder. Jack turned over and fell asleep.

* * *

Brock moaned like a whore because he knew that’s how Jack liked it. Ever since little twink Brock tried to break into his house Jack had liked the sounds he made. It was part of Brock’s subtle and unnameable charm. Or he knew how to sound like a porn star. That might have been it.

He may have been a little louder for the benefit of their audience tonight however.

Ever in sync the two of them glanced over from the bed to where Steve sat on the high stool from the kitchen, ankles lashed to the wooden legs and his hands tied behind him. He was harder than a rock, purple and held tight with the cock ring, forced to watch as Jack and Brock had a night together for what felt like the first time in ages. He was gagged, but that did not stop the small whimpers that came from him as Jack pushed deep into Brock, hitting that perfect spot each time.

“Shit, baby. He’s almost as big as I am. How come you never let him fuck you? He’d probably do you good.”

“He’s not as big as you.”

“My little size queen…” Jack whispered into Brock’s skin. They shared a small grin and kissed softly.

“I know something that’s bigger than both of you,” Brock murmured.

“Yeah, but you shoved that fucker inside of him already,” Jack replied, thinking of the massive vibrating thing they had put in Steve before they sat him down and tied him up.

“Not talking about that…” Jack frowned at him. “Both of you together would be pretty fucking big…”

Jack thrust in a little harder, stuttering out of control for a moment at the thought. “You serious, baby?”

Brock gasped underneath him, clutching at Jack’s hips hard enough to bruise. “God, Jackie, please. Please can we?”

Their eyes met once more. “Yeah, baby. Anything for you. You know that.”

They stopped and looked at Steve once more whose brow furrowed, confused. Brock was grinning his trademark toothy grin and that was understandably cause for concern. They pulled apart and Jack grabbed the pump bottle of lube as Brock stood in front of Steve and started teasing him. Steve made gorgeous, breathy noises through his nose as Brock taunted him with his hands and mouth. Jack snuck up behind him and added more lube to Brock’s already slick ass and from the looks of it, the sound Brock made when he did so shot straight through Steve because Steve threw his head back and moaned.

“Do you know what we’re doing, Stevie?” Brock asked. Steve shook his head, leaning back down to look at Jack and Brock through glazed eyes, blown out pupils. “I’m gonna let you fuck me.” Steve moaned again, a high, confused sound. “Yeah, baby. You get to fuck me while Jack fucks me too. Do you know how tight that’s gonna be? I don’t think you’ve ever felt something that tight on that cock of yours.”

Steve’s eyes widened and Jack could not help but laugh. It was cute. It was giving a dog two bones instead of one and Steve the puppy could not even fathom it. Steve whimpered, hips already thrusting up into the air at the idea of it. He glanced down at his cock and back up to the two men expectantly.

Jack snorted again. “You really think he’s gonna take that cock ring off for this, puppy? He told you before, you don’t get to come all night.”

Steve let out a frustrated breath through his nose, his head rolling on his shoulders as Brock straddled him, standing on the rungs of the bench and starting to slowly ease himself down onto Steve, slick and open and hot. Steve whined and pulled on the ropes at his legs and hands as Brock started riding him, holding him tight by the hair at the base of his scalp.

Brock went still when Jack pressed in behind him. He turned and looked over his shoulder and he looked as lost and strung out as Steve. He leaned back into Jack’s chest and moaned when Jack ran his hands over Brock’s chest. Jack spared a look over at Steve and almost started laughing again. The kid was gone, sweating and straining and completely unable to focus.

He started fingering Brock next to Steve’s cock and the two of them made the most obscene sounds. 

“Jack, Jackie please… please,” Brock murmured.

“Little more, baby. Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, please. I want it…”

“I know baby, you’re gonna get it. You’re gonna be so full.”

Brock loved Jack’s voice. Jack did not see the appeal. He used to be a silent fuck, barely groaning, but one night he had murmured ‘God, baby’ and Brock had come untouched. Since then Jack’s narration had become a third member of their sexcapades. It was doing the trick now. It had been years since Jack had seen Brock so damn hard.

“You ready?” Jack asked Brock. “You ready for both of us?”

“Fuck yes, god, Jackie—“

Brock pushed himself up using Steve’s shoulders as leverage until just the head of Steve’s cock was inside of him. Jack peaked down and Brock’s legs were trembling and Steve’s legs were trembling and, as usual, Jack was the only one still completely possessing his faculties. He pressed in close to Steve’s cock and slowly, slowly Brock lowered himself down on the two men.

Jack could not help but admire the two of them. Steve was breathing heavy through his nose, blinking rapidly, head rolling; just how he always looked when he was being played with by the two men. But Brock? Brock was grinning again, he was loose and pliant against Jack’s chest. He felt Steve jerk up inside of Brock and looked down to see Brock pinching one of Steve’s nipples.

He grabbed Brock’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Be nice, baby.”

“Fuck me, Jackie, make me feel it.”

“Not a lot of room. But I got you, baby, don’t worry.”

With his free hand he reached down and took Brock’s dick, stroking it firm and fast with lube slick fingers, just the way he liked it. He and Steve moaned together when Brock clenched down on them. Jack started rocking up. It wasn’t so much thrusting, there wasn’t enough room, but the movement made Steve and Brock nearly scream. He could only imagine how Steve was feeling, tight and trapped on the bench, trapped inside of Brock now, a massive plug pressing up inside of him, not allowed to come.

“What if we stayed here all night?” Jack asked them. “How long do you think it’ll take Steve to pass out?” Brock didn’t respond, he was too far gone. “What if I gave you a taste of your own medicine, Brock? What if I didn’t let you come either?”

“You— you wouldn’t dare. You can’t anyway—“

“Yeah, you’re right. You got me wrapped around your fucking twink finger.” He rocked against them hard and they moaned again. “You gonna come then, baby? You gonna come all over Steve’s chest?” Brock nodded. “Then you’re gonna lick it off him, right? Gonna clean him up with your tongue?”

Brock’s mouth had fallen open and he was panting, clenching, almost drooling at the idea of it.

“Ma—make me come, Jackie… come on…”

“Can you do one thing for me?” Brock nodded once more. “Bite him, make him bleed. I want to taste his blood on your mouth, baby.”

With a moan Brock let Jack push him forward and press his face at the crook of Steve’s neck. Steve was gone, eyes closed, drool coming out from behind the gag. He sobbed when Brock bit down into his flesh, eyes growing wet at the edges. Brock started undulating his hips up and down on the two cocks, latched on to Steve’s neck with his teeth. Steve was whining and whimpering, and Brock started teasing the piercings on his nipples again.

A few things happened then. The first was that Jack leaned in and whispered “Come for me, baby,” into Brock’s ear before pulling him off of Steve’s neck and pushing his head around to kiss him tasting the blood on his mouth, just like he said. The second was that Brock came, hard, splashing up onto Steve’s chest. The third was that Brock clenched down and Jack came with a loud groan into Brock’s mouth. Then he felt something snap near his cock to the sound of Steve screaming behind the gag. Steve was pressing up into Brock, hips thrusting deep and that was when Jack realize what had happened.

Steve had come. Steve had broken the cock ring and came into Brock’s ass.

They all were panting looking at each other confused. “Did— did that just happen?” Jack finally asked.

Steve nodded after a moment, regaining some composure, but still blinking slow, eyes unfocused.

“Jesus, pet.”

Jack reached around Brock and unclasped the gag, pulling it gingerly from Steve’s mouth. He saw deep tooth marks in the metal ball as he tossed it aside. Brock immediately started swiping up cum from Steve’s chest and pressing it into Steve’s lax mouth, all but spreading it on the kid’s tongue. Steve keened and chuckled around Brock’s fingers, weak and feeble and exhausted.

Steve and Jack grew soft inside of Brock and Jack started pulling out, lifting Brock up and off of them both. Brock sat back down on Steve’s lap though, leaning against Jack’s chest as Jack ran his hands up and down his arms, still panting a little, but grinning again. That was what made this kind of shit worth it, Jack mused.

“I’m too old for this shit,” Brock muttered.

“This was your idea. And how do you think I feel?”

“You’re invincible, Jackie. This is nothing.”

They caught their breath and Brock eased himself back down onto his feet. They found broken rubber cock ring, snapped apart, and admired it. “Shit, Stevie. Even that cock is a super soldier.”

Steve flushed. “I really didn’t know I could do that,” he murmured. “I’ll buy you guys another one.”

“We’re gonna be near Wakanda next week, maybe we should pop in, get you one made outta vibranium.” Jack and Brock snickered as Steve turned an even brighter red. Brock limped over to the bed and flopped down while Jack started untying Steve. He helped Steve up off the bench and pulled out the vibrating plug, turning it off and setting it down on the nightstand as Steve flopped down on his stomach next to Brock, moaning as Brock kneaded his ass, dipping a finger into his open hole. It was lazy though, and Brock stopped after a moment and lay down on top of Steve’s back. Jack was putting things and heard one of them lightly snoring, both of them breathing even and he could not help but smile. He went and took a shower before making his way to the bed and settling down next to Brock.

“Thank you, Jackie,”Brock murmured into Steve’s skin as Steve slept.

“Love you, baby,” Jack replied.

“Love you too.”

* * *

Steve was having a really, really bad day. It had been a really, really bad mission. They sat in the front of the car while Steve sat in the back as they drove away from the Triskillion after the post-op briefing. Steve was silent. He had given small, terse answers during the briefing but otherwise had not said a word, certainly not since they had gotten in the car.

It was the same at the apartment. Brock took Steve to the bathroom, and Jack heard the sound of the shower going as he picked up the phone and ordered them a few pizzas. A shower would be good. Steve had done a cursory wipe-down in the jet when they finished the mission, but Jack was pretty certain there was still stuff in his hair, on his skin.

‘Stuff’ meaning brains and intestines.

From a pre-school.

Jack had seen it. The two kids had been in Steve’s arms as he ran and a hail of gunfire hit them. One second the kids were alive, the next they were torn apart.

Steve had ducked into a corner, shielding them with his body but he was just a second too late.

It had ended shortly after that and Jack, Brock and the Widow had found him still in the corner, protecting the corpses of the children.

Brock had flinched when that damn woman put a small hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Come on, Steve,” she whispered. “It’s over.”

He was shaking his head, eyes shut tight. She knelt down next to him, and pulled him back just a little. “Look, both of them; entry wound, exit wound. It was fast. They probably did not even feel it.”

“How can you say that?” Steve asked her.

“Sometimes there’s nothing else to say.”

He looked like he was going to cry, “Natasha…” He glanced over and saw Jack and Brock standing there, and curled in on himself, steeling his face. Part of Jack knew it killed Brock that he thought he had to put on a tough facade for them, or rather that he had to do so with them when other people were watching. 

“Come on, Steve,” she said again. With a gentle touch she had him put the two corpses down and shuffle away from them. She turned his face away and made him stand and turn and walk away, leaving Jack and Brock alone. 

“Fucking bitch,” Brock murmured.

“We’ll take care of him when we get home, okay?”

“Whatever.”

“I’ll take care of him, alright?”

Brock met his eye skeptically before walking out of the room. Jack tried not to scoff. Brock was hurting, Steve was hurting, this really was not the time.

That had been hours ago. Now Jack was walking to the laundry room throwing some fresh clothes in the dryer to warm up while the two men showered before washing his hands and face in the kitchen sink and changing into a pair of sweatpants. Taking off his shirt he looked and saw there was a dark, massive bruise on his side. He had no idea how that had happened, if he was honest. It was an ugly thing, splotchy and purple-black and spanning from nearly his armpit to his hip.

He had been thrown into a desk by a bomb blast, that was it. He nodded to himself as he recalled the memory and started looking around for a shirt. He walked by a lamp to the dresser and heard a small gasp from the bathroom door.

He turned and saw Steve staring at the bruise on his side, towel around his hips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What for?” Jack asked, trying to keep his voice light.

That was the wrong thing to ask. Steve’s face crumbled and he looked away. _Everything. I’m sorry for everything._ Jack could see it in him. The kid was gone, completely consumed with guilt. It was always lingering in Steve; that’s why he liked it when they didn’t let him come, when they tortured him and teased him. He thought he deserved it. He wondered how the kid would react when they revealed their little secret; would he fight it, or would he think he deserved a betrayal like that too?

Jack was going to take care of this.

“Dry off, sit on the bed,” Jack said softly.

“I— I should go. I don’t think you two are going to want me tonight…”

“Dry off,” repeated Jack, voice low and firm. “And sit on the bed.”

Steve looked at the floor and nodded. Jack was walking out of the room and heard Brock say something in the shower and saw Steve walk back into the bathroom, not able to make out his soft reply.

He reached into the storage closet and pulled down a box filled with stuff he and Brock did not really use anymore and brought it back to the bedroom.

Brock was being possessive. Jack came back to see him pressing Steve back against the door of the bathroom, holding his wrists at his side against the wooden door. Steve was so gone, he just let Brock manhandle him, naked and tired, eyes closed, ready for Brock to fuck him, ready to be just a hole to fill. Brock, to his credit did not seem interested in that. Instead he was pressing their lips together, claiming his mouth, but not moving any further down Steve’s naked body.

Jack clicked his tongue which was enough to get Brock to back off, but not enough to have him let go of Steve’s wrists. “Pizza’ll be here soon. Thought I told you to sit on the bed.”

Steve’s eyes opened and closed slowly, he stared at the ground. He was thinking so loud Jack might’ve thought the neighbors could hear it if he didn’t know any better. It had to be like screaming inside of his head for the way he would squeeze his eyes shut and force himself to breathe.

The doorbell rang and Jack sent Brock out to pay for the pizza. He looked loathe to leave Steve, but a firm look from Jack sent him on his way. He paused when he glanced the box.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

Brock nodded, grabbed Jack’s wallet off the dresser and went to the front door in just his towel. Jack heard him chatting with the delivery guy down the hall.

“Steve, don’t make me tell you again.”

Steve blinked at him. “What?”

Jack nodded pointedly to the bed and could see the little wheels in Steve’s head turning before things clicked in place and he moved across the room and sat down. He was curled up over himself, wrapping his arms around his middle. Jack knew what he needed.

He stood in front of Steve, took a fistful of his hair and punched him as hard as he could in the eye socket.

He let Steve fall back on the bed, staring up at him wide-eyed. Their eyes met before he took him by the hair again and slammed Steve’s face into his knee, feeling something crack on impact. He threw Steve down onto the ground with a loud crash and kicked him hard in the ribs again, and again. Brock came in as Steve started to scramble away, primal instinct kicking in. Brock closed the door behind him, and blocked the exit. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back.

Steve blanched, looking back and forth between Brock and Jack. “Wait— wait, wait, what is this?”

Jack didn’t answer. He leaned down and pulled at Steve’s leg, dragging him over to the foot of the bed. Steve easily broke free — he was, after all, a super soldier — and ran right into Brock’s foot. He was stunned for a moment, and it was long enough for Jack and Brock to haul him up and bend him over the edge of the bed. Jack held him down while Brock grabbed some rope. He was starting to wrap it around Steve’s wrists when Jack stopped him.

“His neck. Make it tight. Tie it to the headboard.”

Brock nodded and followed the instructions dutifully. The knot was perfect. It would loosen if Steve gave it slack, but would grow tight if he pulled on it too hard. Brock lashed it to the headboard just in time for Steve to come back around. He was panicky, flailing hard until Jack put a firm hand down on his back between his shoulder blades.

“Hold still.”

Steve didn’t. “What are you doing?” he said, muffled by the mattress, squirming under Jack’s hand, trying to get his feet under him and pull away. Jack rolled his eyes and gestured to Brock to tie up his legs. He kicked them open, and Steve crashed down a little further into the bed, pulling the rope at his neck just a little tighter.

Brock tied him to the legs of the bed. Steve could break out of it, but not without pulling hard enough on the rope on his neck to possibly pass out. He was bent over the edge of the bed, ass up in the air. For good measure he had Brock tie his hands up, stretching him out towards the headboard, pulling his back taut across the bed if only to stop him from clawing at the knot on his neck.

“Pass over the box.”

Brock did. Then he took out a thick wooden dowel, wrapped in leather and put it in Steve’s mouth, turning his head to look up at him on the mattress.

“Bite down on this, baby,” Brock whispered. “It helps.”

Steve looked horrified, eyes wide and wet, bright blue stark against his pale skin, the blood dripping down his nose. His whole body was shaking.

“Where do you want to be?” Jack asked Brock.

“I’ll stay here,” Brock replied. He sat down on the bed, and put a hand on Steve’s head. He tucked his legs up near his chest, out of the line of fire.

Jack chose the belt first, and swung it down hard against Steve’s back. Steve screamed and jerked, pulling on the ropes and gasping around the bit in his mouth. Jack kept swinging, red welts popping up on Steve’s back after every lash, skin starting to split and bleed. Steve was screaming and flailing and sobbing with every hit. He brought the belt down on Steve’s ass and Steve howled. Jack kicked his legs further apart and hit Steve’s testicles as Steve keened and moaned and sobbed. He was pulling hard on the ropes now, his face growing red. Jack went with it.

He put his knee in the middle of Steve’s back and pulled his head up by the hair. “Quit trying to get away. You take this. You take this, you fucking piece of shit.”

He pushed Steve’s face hard down into the mattress and reached up and pulled on the rope. Steve couldn’t breathe. Jack knew he couldn’t breathe, and every SHIELD trained operative knew that if you couldn’t breathe, you did not panic, otherwise you’d use up what air you had sooner.

Looks like they were going to have to train Steve a little harder.

He passed out after a few minutes and Jack turned his head to the side, gave him a quick once-over and moved around his body before slapping him hard once, twice— he woke up after the third time, bleary and disoriented and Jack spat into his eye.

“Get the plug,” he told Brock. “The big one.”

Brock did what he was told. He stepped over to where Jack was looking over his handiwork and handed Jack their largest plug along with the pump bottle of lube. Jack gave him a withered look at that, and Brock flushed like a school girl, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’ before putting it back in the dresser. He made to go sit back on the bed by Steve’s face but Jack gestured him over.

“Hold him open.”

Brock sat next to Steve and leaned over and pulled his asscheeks apart.

Jack grabbed the riding crop. He ran it up and down Steve’s cock, over his balls and across his hole. Steve squirmed and whimpered into the mattress, and then screamed when Jack hit him in the testicles once more, hard and fast, over and over, and over, before moving up and smacking his hole about ten times.

He tossed the crop aside and stepped over to Steve’s face, pulling him up by the hair once more, knocking out the bit. He pushed the plug towards his mouth; “Get it wet.”

Steve, to his benefit, did try. He couldn’t fit the whole thing in his mouth, it was that big. He whimpered around it as Jack shoved it in as hard and deep as he could, choking and crying, snot dribbling down his nose.

With no other lubricant, Jack brought it down between Steve’s legs and with all his power, shoved it hard into Steve.

Steve screamed again, and Brock went back up to replace the bit. Steve got a few words out; “wait, wait, stop!” before the bit was back in his mouth. His words dissolved into feeble screams and whines.

He hit Steve hard in the back of the thighs and ass with the riding crop for a long while after that. He decided he would stop when Steve stopped making noises.

Steve had always been a little loud in bed.

Blood was running down one of his thighs and the skin around his neck and wrists was red and raw from the way he was pulling, but he finally grew quiet.

Jack pulled out the flogger. It was a cruel thing; thin leather with tacks at the end. It tore skin apart, which was how Jack liked it. The welts on Steve’s back were already starting to fade away, and Jack had a lot of pent up energy from the mission. Steve wailed when the first hit from the flogger struck, and Jack had been going light. He brought his hand down hard, and twisted his arm so the tacks would sink in and drag along Steve’s skin, over and over and over. After a while Steve was no longer screaming, but was at a point where he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing at each impact, small moans and whimpers falling from his throat.

Jack undid his pants, threw the flogger aside and walked behind Steve. He pulled out the plug and thrust in to the sound of Steve screaming all over again. He fucked him cruel and hard; running his nails down the welts and cuts on his back and reaching around to pinch and tug at his tits. The sounds Steve was making made it worth the trouble. And it was trouble. Brock knew better than to act the way Steve was, self-deprecating and pathetic, but Steve needed a lesson.

Jack finished, left cum dripping out of his ass and moved to the bed and straddled Steve’s back. “Are we done yet?” he hissed into Steve’s ear. He turned Steve’s head around at a cruel angle and made him meet his eye. Steve blinked up at him through the tears, confused and lost. He looked up at Brock. “Help me flip him over.”

“Jack…”

“Help me flip him or you’re next.”

Brock got upand they worked quickly, untying Steve’s legs and flipping him on to his back. Brock tried to be gentle but Jack was having none of it, and all but threw him down onto the bed, onto his torn up back. Steve cried out and writhed and Jack tore the bit out of his mouth before bringing the flogger down onto Steve’s stomach.

It took a few hits for Steve to start begging, “God, please stop—“

Jack didn’t. He found the belt again and started working on the fronts of Steve’s thighs, hard and fast before landing one good hit on Steve’s cock.

“ _Fuck_ — god! Please, please—“

He was crying in earnest again and after a few minutes with the belt and a handful of strikes more with the flogger, he reached into the box once more. He straddled Steve once again, pulling his hair back and bending down to bite into his neck, hard enough to draw blood. He licked his lips as Steve stared at him in horror. He showed Steve the piece of sandpaper and forced himself not to laugh as Steve frowned at him. 

He ran the rough paper across the welts on Steve’s chest, and then over his nipples and Steve screamed and writhed and sobbed some more.

It was satisfying, he could do this for hours, but Jack needed to finish this up.

The pizza was going to get cold.

“St–stop…” Steve gasped out under Jack.

Jack wrapped his hands around Steve’s neck, palms sliding over the blood from where he bit him, and gripping tight. “Why?” he asked.

Steve blinked, frowned. “What? Please—“

“Why the fuck should I stop?”

“It hurts—”

“That so?”

“Please—“

He slapped Steve hard. “Why should I stop, Steve? I should just kill you right here.” Steve sobbed and shook his head, looking between Jack and Brock. “You piece of shit. You worthless piece of shit!”

“Jack—“

“Brock, off the bed. This is between us.” Brock left the bed and Jack moved closer to Steve’s face. “Tell me why I should stop, Steve? What’s the fucking point? I let you live and you fuck up again, and then it’s on me, isn’t it?” He pulled Steve’s hair hard, yanking his head back. “I’m gonna have to do this all over again, and I got better fucking things to do with my time.”

“Please, please—“

“Please what? Stop? But you earned this. You want this.”

“I don’t— I don’t want this—“

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t fuck up so bad unless you wanted to be punished.”

“I don’t— I don’t know what—“

“Widow was wrong,” he hissed. “Those kids suffered. You killed them.” Steve’s eyes went wide for a moment before his face crumbled and he started sobbing again. “And that’s not even the worse thing you’ve done. You’re a piece of shit. You can’t do anything right. We all know the stories. Can’t save your best friend from falling out of a fucking train? You can’t even die right.”

“Jack…” Brock said from his place in the corner of the room. Jack ignored him.

Jack grabbed the rope on Steve’s neck and pulled it up towards the headboard, tightening it over Steve’s throat so he could barely breathe. “You fucking piece of shit. We shouldn’t even let you on our bed. Put you outside to bleed and fester like the fucking dog you are.”

Steve’s eyes squeezed shut. Then Steve nodded.

“You’ve been sleeping with us, and we thought you’d be better, and you fucked up, you’re always fucking up and always just fucking not good enough. You didn’t save those kids, whore. You let them die, you weren’t fast enough. How fucking could you? And then you acted all strong and stoic in front of my Brock? What makes you think you can act like that? Hurting my baby like that. You’re just a sham. Captain fucking America can’t do shit but fuck up. We should just throw you to the curb. We should just kill you, but you’re not good enough for that. You don’t deserve the mercy.”

He went quiet for a moment, letting Steve sob and crash in on himself. Jack was finished. He had one hand wrapped around Steve’s neck, and wiped his face with the other. He watched Steve shake, watched all of his feelings spread over his face.

“Please,” he whispered under Jack. “Please—“ Steve finally blinked up and met Jack’s eyes. “Please. I’m sorry— I’m so sorry. Please, don’t—“

“What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry I killed those kids. I’m sorry I— with Brock. I’m sorry I didn’t— I wasn’t— please, please, please, I’m so sorry— I’m so, so sorry! Please, please, Jack, I’ll be better. I’ll try. Please, I’m sorry I’m not good enough, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

Jack relaxed above him. Mission accomplished. He stoked Steve’s cheek and their eyes met again. “You’re forgiven. You’ve been punished, and it’s over now. It’s over.”

Steve broke down and Jack was finished. He sighed and sat back and wiped his face again before moving to undo the ropes. Brock stepped forward and started helping with the rope and Jack got off the bed, stripped down and went to take a shower. “There’s clothes warming in the dryer. Make sure he puts on the sweatshirt. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay,” Brock whispered. Steve was clutching him fiercely now that he was untied, trembling and shaking and Brock was petting his hair and whispering soft words in his ear.

Jack went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He glanced at himself in the mirror. There was blood on his face, and the bruise on his side looked even worse in the bright light of the bathroom. He cracked his neck and stretched out his arms, knowing he was going to feel this in the morning, popping some aspirin. When the water was hot enough he stepped in and washed down quickly. He waited a little longer though, just standing in the shower, cooling down and making sure Brock had enough time to take care of Steve, and Steve’s body would at least start healing and closing those cuts.

He got out in time to hear a knock on the bathroom door. “Jack, I think I want him to shower again, wash the blood off.”

“Yeah, come on in.”

Brock opened the door and walked Steve in. Jack was not surprised that Steve had completely checked out, eyes unseeing and red-rimmed. Jack turned the water back on again, letting it fill the tub instead of go back to the shower. They helped Steve in and sat him down. Brock took a washcloth and started wiping Steve down, dipping it in the warm water and squeezing it gently over his back and chest. Jack took another one and ran it under the sink tap because the water Steve was sitting in was turning pinkish-brown from the blood. He sat on the edge of the tub and took Steve by the chin. At least the kid still was aware enough to flinch away from Jack’s touch.

“Shh. It’s over, pet. You’re done.” Steve let Jack run the washcloth over his face. He was very, very gentle as he went, but felt Steve’s eyes on him the whole time. “Close your eyes.”

Steve shook his head, body growing tense.

“Shh. Shh. It’s okay, baby,” Brock whispered. “It’s like he said; it’s over.”

“Close ‘em, Stevie.” Jack’s voice was firm and soft. He ignored the tear that trailed down Steve’s cheek when Steve finally let himself close his eyes. He ran the soft cloth over his face, his eyelids. With Steve’s eyes closed, Jack spared a look down his body

The wounds were closing. Brock would take days of recovery after a beating like that, all the while Jack fretting over him about infections and bandages; there really was something to be said for that super soldier serum. They were still raised and pink, but they were mostly closed by the time Brock prompted Steve to stand up while they drained the water. He was shaking, or rather shivering so Jack found a few clean towels to wrap him up in; around his waist, over his shoulders. They sat him on the bed, and Jack actually saw all the blood that was on the sheets and made them both stand up for a minute while he stripped the bed down. He started the washer again and pulled the warm clothes from the dryer. Brock had gotten Steve into a pair of briefs but nothing else.

Brock was practically drooling at Steve. He didn’t mean to, and he wouldn’t do anything to Steve right now but he loved this, he loved seeing the hurt, the wounds, the fear. Jack was happy to provide it, but his pleasure was different. Brock would keep the image of Steve sobbing, apologizing and letting go, giving in to Jack in his spank bank until the day he died. Jack hope Steve translated the look on Brock’s face as affection rather than lust, but who knew at this point.

He passed Brock some of the clothes and rummaged through his dresser for a clean pair of sweatpants. At some point when Brock stood to start getting dressed and Jack was turned away, Steve had slid off of the bed, curled in a ball with his back against the nightstand, shaking harder.

“Shit,” Brock whispered. “Shit, Jack you went too hard.”

That wasn’t it. Steve was processing. Everything that had happened was replaying in his mind, and then some. He had apologized, and his brain was catching up with the act of it.

Jack knelt down in front of Steve. “Did I go too hard, Steve?”

Steve stared at him for a long time. He shook his head. Jack gave him a smile and patted his cheek.

“He just needs a little time. Help him up, get him dressed. He’ll feel better with some clothes and food.”

Jack left the room and brought the pizza boxes into the living room, and pulled out some of their winter blankets from the closet. The he grabbed a six-pack of beer and some plates from the kitchen and put it next to the pizza before rummaging around for the bottle opener.

Steve looked terrible when he and Brock came out of the bedroom, but he was wearing Jack’s old SHIELD training academy sweatshirt, and that was gorgeous. Almost as good as the collar, but with the added benefit of smelling like Jack no matter how many times it was washed. Steve would be surrounded in it. 

They sat on the couch and ate quietly. Brock suggested putting on a movie but Jack vetoed it. None of them would be watching anyway. They had tucked Steve between them, and he was looking at his plate of pizza but not touching it. Jack sighed and set his plate down. Steve flinched again when Jack turned and took his plate too. He tucked a blanket over Steve’s lap easily and then brought the piece of pizza Steve had been ignoring up to his mouth. Steve took a bite after a brief, heavy moment. Brock ran his hand through Steve’s hair and pulled in closer.

Steve let Jack feed him, let Brock whisper encouraging words in his ear. Jack opened a beer and poured it in Steve’s mouth. Slowly the tension was melting out of Steve. He let them touch him and after a while he stopped looking so scared. Jack pulled Steve into him, under his arm and Steve closed his eyes and let himself go.

“Good boy,” Jack whispered. Steve pressed his face into Jack’s chest. “Did we ever tell you about when I first met Brock?” After a moment, Steve nodded against his chest. “Well, what about the time we went on our first road trip?” Brock groaned next to them and Steve shook his head. “Night before we were at the shooting range. Made a bet. Brock scores highest I eat him out every night of the trip, but if I win, Brock has to wear a plug every day while we’re traveling. And we were going on my old Harley. Brock was so sure he would win. Pretty sure the one we used was bigger than he’d ever had before. I was saving it for our anniversary.”

“Came in my pants three times that first day of the trip.”

“Six hour drive no less. I may have revved the engine a little more than necessary.” Jack felt Steve let out a small breath of laughter. “He was a complete mess at that first hotel. Could barely walk. Still wanted me to fuck him, though. And he insisted on going the whole trip like that.”

“He’s— he’s so weird,” Steve whispered. Brock and Jack let out a breath of tension they had both been holding in and chuckled.

“Yeah, he kind of is. That’s why I love him,” Jack replied softly. Steve loved that kind of shit between Jack and Brock. It was easy for Jack to do, because it was true, but he may have hammed it up a little for Steve’s benefit.

Steve curled deeper into Jack and they stayed that way a little while longer. Jack would break the pizza into bite sized bits and feed it to Steve while Brock ran a comforting hand over Steve’s back. Jack leaned over the arm of the couch to the little end table and pulled open the drawer where he hid his cigarettes and lighter.

“You told me you quit,” Brock said.

“You never really quit,” Jack replied before taking a drag.

Then, of all things, Steve took the cigarette from Jack’s hand and brought it to his lips. He let out the smoke after a moment and made a face.

“Ain’t you just a tough cookie?” Jack smirked. “That your first time smoking?”

Steve looked at the package, shaking his head. “I thought these were Lucky Strikes.”

“They are.”

“They taste funny… different.”

He fell quiet again, closing his eyes as Jack worked on his cigarette above him and Brock finished the last dregs of the beer. Occasionally he would pass the cigarette down to Steve and watch him take a small drag. It stirred something nice inside of Jack to watch those lips wrap around the cigarette. 

“Fuck this was a long day,” Brock murmured.

“But it’s over now,” replied Jack. “We should head to bed.”

“I think we’re outta clean sheets.”

“There’s always the spare room,” Jack said meeting his eye. Brock had perked up at the mention it. “We could show Steve what we’ve been working on.”

Jack stood up and he and Brock started pulling Steve to the spare room. Sure, it was not how they wanted to reveal it to him, but now seemed as good a time as any.

And there was a bed with clean sheets in there too.

Steve frowned when they reached the door, Brock pulling the small key off the hook outside the door. He kissed Steve deep before pushing the door open and pulling him inside. Jack opted to lean against the doorframe while Brock gave him the tour.

Honestly it was just a room. Most of the work they had done involved soundproofing and making sure the exposed beams and wall-studs were reinforced enough to hold a super-soldier. There were a few brackets spread around the room, some by the bed, some on the beam, but otherwise looked relatively normal (Jack and Brock discussed a worse-case scenario where they would have to use it as a guest room and wanted it to be easy to convert).

There was a bed, a chair, a dresser, a desk. To the naked eye it _looked_ like a guest room. The bed was bolted to the ground and the dresser was filled with all sorts of weird sex toys and harnesses and gags that Brock had been buying, but that was inconsequential. There was a window with what the realtor had called ‘good southern exposure.’ Steve would like that for drawing, or at least that’s what Brock said. Jack suspected they were keeping him a little too busy, or a little too tied up to do anything of that nature. That the glass was now bulletproof was inconsequential — though costly, but Brock was worth it. They figured that was the best they would be able to do to keep Steve in if it came to that.

They painted the walls green, and the bed had dark green sheets. Steve’s favorite color.

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” Steve said softly looking around, arms wrapped around himself protectively. “Isn’t this just your guest room?”

“It’s yours if you want it.” Brock moved behind Steve and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“What?”

“Jack’s got the study, I dick around in the garage. This could be your space.”

“I— umm—“

Jack could see Steve starting to crumble again, getting a little ragged around the edges; overwhelmed probably, if he had to guess. He stepped in and pushed Steve and Brock towards the bed. “You don’t have to decide tonight, pet. We should get some sleep.”

Steve nodded, falling quiet again. Jack and Brock murmured a little about when to set the alarm. Jack stepped out to make sure he stubbed out his cigarette all the way. He was about to head back into _Steve’s room_ when he made a quick detour back to their bedroom.

He came back to Brock spooning behind Steve, holding him steady and tight. Steve was already half-asleep, falling into exhaustion. Jack pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket and snapped a quick picture. It was cute. He liked them together; he liked seeing Brock happy.

He knelt down on the bed in front of Steve and shook his shoulder a little. “One more thing, pup.”

Steve blinked up and Jack held up the collar in front of him. His face softened and he gave Jack a small smile. When Jack raised his eyebrows in question Steve nodded. As Jack pushed the sweatshirt down a little and started buckling it around his neck, Steve reached up and kissed him, cupping his face.

“What was that for?”

“I— just— _thank you_ ,” he whispered.

“It’s just a collar.”

“No, I mean— for before. When you—“

_Oh,_ Jack thought, bemused. _So that’s what Stockholm Syndrome looks like_.

“It’s what you needed,” said Jack easily. “You understand that right, pet?”

“Yes.”

“You did good,” Brock said softly behind Steve. Steve smiled but looked at Jack, waiting, hopeful.

“Yeah, puppy.” He ran his hand through Steve’s hair. “Good boy.”

Steve melted, grinning and happy and oh so fucking adorable before he pressed his face into Jack’s chest and curled up into him, clinging and clutching the cloth of his shirt. He sighed into Jack, body relaxing under Jack and Brock’s hands.

Brock and Jack exchanged a look, Brock’s white teeth almost glinting in the dark room. Jack had to swallow down a snort. He and Brock both knew Brock could never get Steve this dependent, this pliant and lost and broken on his own. Steve did not even know he was broken, and that’s how Jack liked it, because he knew that’s how Brock liked it. Brock would probably come in his pants when they told Steve everything, when he saw Steve’s face when Steve realized how terribly he had fucked up.

But right now it was not on Steve’s mind. His hands were moving down Jack’s chest and he leaned up on his elbows and looked at Jack through his eyelashes. Jack raised his eyebrows and Steve wiggled down Jack’s body, hovering over his crotch and biting his lip.

“Got something on your mind pet?”

“Can I?” he asked softly. “Let me say ‘thank you’ properly?”

Jack did snort then. “You drive a hard bargain, Rogers.” He groaned when Steve started to pull down his sweatpants and breathe over his cock. He didn’t think he had it in him to get it up again. He pushed Steve’s hands away “I may have to take a rain check. “ Steve’s face fell. and Jack chuckled. “I promise I’ll let you say ‘thank you’ in the morning, but I’m tired, and you’re tired and even Brock’s tired. I want you to get some rest, okay? Come here.”

He pulled Steve back up and kissed him again, pressing him down into the bed between the two of them, passing him over to Brock who wrapped him up in his arms. Steve closed his eyes and was asleep almost instantly. Jack held back a laugh and reached over to Brock, scratching his scalp. Brock hummed and curled tighter into Steve, his breath turning even.

Jack envied them both a little bit. Sleeping came hard for him. Thought it was a little easier tonight. He imagined he could taste Steve’s blood on his tongue still, warm and metallic and _his._ If he had been thinking he would have taken a bite outta Brock as well, but he didn’t want to wake Brock up. He’d wait until next time. Maybe he’d let Steve watch him take Brock apart like he used to when they were young. He’d spent far too long letting Steve and Brock have all the fun.

Or he’d do both of them together. Tie them up and make them both cry on the bed, work them over until they’re sobbing, bleeding strung out and wrecked.

That was a good thought to fall asleep to.

* * *

Steve liked his new room. He loved it when Brock and Jack were there with him, but he liked it well enough on his own. He had some suspicions that SHIELD was keeping an eye on him so he had to go back and forth between his place and Brock and Jack’s but he was with them more often than he wasn’t.

Among all the toys Brock had bought, he had a cock-cage for whenever Steve wasn’t in their house with them, so at least he had incentive to come back every night, even if he wasn’t allowed to come most of the time.

He loved the things Brock bought. More often than not, Jack was sitting working while the two of them were getting up to mischief with all the peculiar, odd things Brock had found on the internet.

They hadn’t used it yet, but Steve’s favorite was [the gag](http://www.ebay.com/itm/Heavy-duty-stainless-steel-genuine-Leather-ball-gag-adjustable-lockable-harness-/140738882205). Hell, it was Brock’s favorite as well. It was actually the one from eBay delivered to Jack that first started all this. When Brock asked Jack for all this. It was a hell of a gag, Jack gave ‘em that. A hell of a gag for a hell of a situation.

Jack thought he was fairly experienced in such things, but he had never quite seen anything like the gag. It was technically a ball gag, but not exactly. The ‘ball’ portion floated free on a screw that went through a thick strap of leather. On the outside there was a turn-able handle. Turn it and it pushes the ball deeper inside someone’s mouth. There was no other way to describe it other than ‘a hell of a gag.’

“It means he can practice,” Brock said when they brought it to him a few mornings after the night they first showed him his new room.

“Practice?” asked Jack as he made pancakes in the kitchen, Steve and Brock at his back sitting at the kitchen island drinking coffee and juice. It was Sunday; seemed like a good day for pancakes. They had all been given a few days off after the bad mission, and if Jack had been treating the two of them a little nicer he wouldn’t admit to it. He peaked over his shoulder at Steve who looked just as lost as Jack was.

“Work on that gag reflex. I’m always worried he’s going to pass out or puke when we fuck his mouth.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jack said patiently. “Anybody’s gonna gag if you punch them in the esophagus with your dick.” He was about to say something else when he glanced at Steve again who was red in the face looking at his glass of juice and rubbing the back of his neck. “Aw Brock, now look what you’ve done. _I_ like your blowjobs, Steve. They’re very nice.”

“Quit spoiling him.”

“Quit hurting his feelings. You always say shit that brings him down.”

“At least I don’t fucking tie him up and flog him bloody,” Brock said under his breath.

“At least I don’t get off on it, like you.”

“Yeah, and who made me that way?”

“You keep acting like such a brat, I’ll flog you next.”

“Don’t— wait— stop—” Steve stared between, eyes wide, hand raised between Jack and Brock.

Jack almost laughed. He thought this was a real fight. He thought Jack was going to beat Brock up to a bloody pulp. He and Brock exchanged a look and snorted, leaving Steve even more confused.

“Relax puppy. Mommy and daddy fight sometimes, don’t mean anything.”

“Thank you for jumping to my rescue though,” Brock hummed.

Steve looked chastised, so Jack moved around the kitchen island and into Steve’s space and patted him on the cheek. “You know, Brock actually likes getting smacked around a little; it’s okay.”

“Do you— do you do what you did to me, to him?”

“No, not usually. But you know Brock.” He turned Steve’s head so they could look at him together. “Sometimes he needs a good smack in the ass.”

Steve flushed. “Oh…’

“It can be nice, baby,” Brock said. You wanna try?”

“Brock, you fucking horndog. Maybe I should show him how it works on you.”

“Or you could do both of us.”

Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. “Just for that Steve gets to come first.” Jack rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and turned off the stove as Brock hopped off the stool, and pushed Steve to do the same.

“You really think this’ll make me come?”

“Yeah baby,” Brock purred in his ears. “Trust me. It’s amazing.”

“But the other night—“

“It’s not like that mostly. It’s a lot nicer. Come on, pull your pants down.”

Steve looked over at Brock. “It— it can be good? Right?”

“Yeah, baby. Jack will make it really good.”

He and Steve were resting against the kitchen island with their pants around their thighs, asses out and ready. Steve was tense and nervous, but Brock looked actually happy. He never got to really sub for Jack anymore. Sure, there was little stuff about their relationship that never changed; Brock always followed Jack’s orders, and Jack always took care of Brock, but Jack actually couldn’t remember the last time he had done this with Brock. They were old and tired, and usually just liked to fuck like almost normal people.

Brock leaned over and kissed Steve on the cheek, murmuring something into his ear that Jack couldn’t make out.

“You both are too cute. How’d I get so lucky?” Jack asked softly. Brock beamed at him, and even Steve was able to crack a small smile.

He made them wait. He plated up the pancakes he was working on and brought them over to the kitchen island. He sat on the stool next to Steve, and for a while did not do much other than stroke his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, trying to ease some of the tension from his body. Steve had been wearing Jack’s sweatshirt almost religiously these last few days and looking at it now, close up to his skin, Jack could not help but marvel at him. 

“Doing okay?” Steve nodded, gnawing on his lip. Jack ran his thumb over the abused mouth, “Don’t bite your lips like that, puppy. It’s okay.”

“S-sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jack said again.” “Now, when I do this to Brock, it’s because he’s done something wrong. He’s such a little brat though, you know how he is.” Steve almost smiled at that, a little huff of air leaving his lips. “I don’t do this if there’s nothing wrong, but I bet you’ve done something wrong, haven’t you?”

“I— I don’t—“

“Tell me, Stevie. What’s the worst thing you’ve done in the last seventy-two hours?” That was the right amount of time. It had been longer since the incident the other night.

“I— I think dirty thoughts.”

“This isn’t confession, you can do better than that. What’s something that’ll really make Brock mad?”

Steve flushed. “I jerked off in the shower,” he whispered.

Jack smirked, leaned over and smacked him on the ass. It was loud, but not terribly hard; Steve jumped all the same, a gasp on his lips. Then Jack took a fork and broke off a piece of pancake from the plate and brought it to Steve’s lips.

“Good boy.”

He let Steve chew and spared a glance at Brock who was probably already hard under the counter. Jack ran his hand down Steve’s back comfortingly.

“What else, Steve? What were you thinking about when you were jacking off in the shower?”

“Ev-everything…”

“Not good enough.”

“I was— I was thinking about the plug that vibrates— I wanted it inside me…”

“What’s so bad about that, puppy?”

“I wanted to have it inside of me while I was fucking Brock.”

Jack almost laughed out loud at Brock’s flabbergasted look. He spanked Steve once more, a little harder, letting his hand rest where it fell as Steve squirmed a little. Then he smacked Steve again, smirking at the little gasp that he made.

Another bite of pancake, a kiss on his lips.

Steve was flushed and trembling a little when Jack reached between his legs. Steve was half-hard, and getting harder by the second. He kissed him again as he pulled his cock out from his pants. Steve was biting his lip again, so Jack spanked him. “That’s for biting your lip.”

“Sorry.” It was adorable; Steve squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip again, before realizing what he was doing and immediately let go, eyes flying open to check if Jack had seen.

“Yeah. I saw that.”

He spanked him again. Steve made the tiniest of groans.

“So you want to fuck Brock?” Jack asked easily. Steve’s mouth opened like he was about to bite his lip, but he stopped himself. “Good boy,” whispered Jack, holding another piece of pancake in front of him. “Tell me more.”

“I—I want to do it together— like we did before— I want to make him feel good— I can’t stop thinking about when he came with both of us.”

“Is that so?”

Steve nodded. “He looked—“ he stopped himself with a small, whiney noise, hiding his face in his arm on the counter.

“Yeah, he’s something else isn’t he?” Steve nodded without looking up. “What else do you think about?”

“The other night,” he said into his arm.

“Look me in the eye and talk to me like an adult, Steve.”

Steve’s head popped up. “The other night,” he said again, meeting Jack’s eye but clearly not wanting to. “When you—“ Jack waited for him to finish. “The belt. I liked the belt. I want—“

“And here you were thinking you wouldn’t come from a spanking, liking getting belted.” Jack stroked his cheek and gave him another pancake. Steve moaned again; small and strained in his throat like he was trying to keep quiet. “Spanking not hard enough?”

“I didn’t think it’d be like this.”

“You ready to come?” Steve nodded. “You come when I say, alright?” Steve nodded again.

Jack started spanking him hard, repeatedly, the sound of it ringing out into the kitchen. Steve dropped his head in his arms, hands balling into fists, beautiful, tiny noises coming out of him. Jack kneaded his ass and Steve squirmed, blissed out, balls getting tight.

Jack grabbed the plate of pancakes and held it down in front of Steve’s legs. Steve did not notice at all. “Alright Steve, come now.”

Jack gave him one more firm smack and Steve let himself go, gasping, back arching, coming right onto the plate of pancakes. As he came back down, holding onto the counter for support, Jack brought the plate up and put it in front of Brock, who had been suspiciously quiet the entire time Jack was with Steve.

“What have you been up to, baby?” Jack asked, teasing. He walked around to Brock’s other side and leaned in close. Brock was gone, just from watching Steve get spanked his eyes were blown out and he was harder than a fucking rock. “My little sadist. You liked that, huh?”

Brock nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed.

“You liked him talking about fucking you?”

“Yeah…”

“You just like getting fucked. I wanted to spank you too, but it looks like you’re about to burst. Maybe you should eat a little and calm down?”

He pushed the plate closer to Brock and handed him a fork. He started to stroke Brock’s ass lightly, raising his eyebrows waiting for Brock to start eating. He stared at the pancakes, covered in Steve’s jizz and licked his lips. He took a big bite, holding Jack’s gaze all the while.

“There we go, baby. Tastes good, right?”

Brock nodded, chewing the pancakes slowly before swallowing.

“Now maybe you should tell me all the bad things you’ve been thinking about too. It’s only fair. Steve was so good, wasn’t he?”

He looked over at Steve who was resting on his arms watching the two of them, pupils blown wide, face red and splotchy.

“Do you want to hear what Brock’s thinking about, Steve?”

Steve nodded against his arm, “Yeah,” he whispered.

“What have you got to say for yourself Brock?” Jack asked. “Maybe you should take another bite while you collect your thoughts?”

Brock ate another bite of the pancakes dutifully before speaking. “I want to watch you fuck Steve.”

“But Steve’s your toy.”

“I like to share. I want you to do what you do best. You’re good, Jackie. I want to watch.”

“Do you want me to do it now? I can’t spank you if I’m fucking him.”

“Will you let me come while I watch?”

“Yeah, baby. That sounds alright. But only when I say. You want that Stevie?”

Steve nodded again.

“Eat your pancakes, Brock. I’ll grab the lube.”

He padded around the house slowly, stretching his arms across his body as he went. Brock was gonna make him throw out his back one of these days, and Jack would probably let him. He found the lube and went back to the kitchen to see Steve and Brock making out, still leaning over the kitchen island, assess still out in the air right next to each other. Steve’s sweatpants had fallen down around his ankles, and his ass was red from the spanking, but it was fading fast. He jumped when Jack snuck up behind them and groped both their asses after putting the lube down.

“You watching, Brock?” Brock nodded, stroking Steve’s face.

Jack started fingering Steve with a lubed up finger, efficient and firm and Steve squirmed underneath him. He let out a beautiful noise when Jack thrust inside of him after only a little bit of stretching. Jack moved slowly, making Steve feel every inch of him and Steve was keening into Brock’s face. Brock would kiss him for a little while before leaning up and watching Jack fuck him, eyes focused on where Jack’s cock was disappearing into Steve’s ass.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yes…” Brock and Steve whispered at the same time.

“You boys are so good.” Jack stroked up and down Steve’s sides. “You gonna come again, puppy?”

“Yes.”

“What about you Brock? You ready?”

“Yeah… yeah, Jack, please.”

“Can you jerk each other off?”

Brock’s hand immediately went down to Steve’s cock and after a second, Steve peeled one of his arms off of the counter and brought it down to Brock’s legs, fumbling around his sweatpants for his cock.

With both of them moaning under him, Jack leaned back a little to admire the two men, barely holding it together, ready to collapse onto the floor. He started to fuck into Steve harder just to hear the breathy little noises he’d make, and to see Brock’s eyes go wide and see him lick his lips. He let one of his hands wander from Steve’s hips and to Brock’s ass, barely flitting against his hole.

“Jack… Jack please,” Brock whispered.

“You ask so nice.” He leaned down over Steve’s back and whispered, “You both can come.”

And they did. That was a heady rush watching them come on his command, and Jack followed soon after, coming into Steve’s ass with a groan.

They were panting, Steve barely able to hold himself up as Jack leaned heavily against his back, nosing the junction of Steve’s neck, against the collar and his sweatshirt. He wanted to bite Steve again — in fact, he felt like biting Steve all the time, if he was perfectly honest; breaking that skin and making him cry out was addictive — but he refrained.

“I love you,” someone whispered into the kitchen.

Brock and Jack met each other’s eye. It was Steve who had spoken. Brock grinned and pushed some hair off of Steve’s brow.

“We love you too, puppy,” Jack said softly. “I think tonight we can start using that gag.”

Brock nodded at them. They were going to use the gag when they told Steve the truth. The room was ready for it, and now Steve was too. God, Steve did not even realize what he had done, confessing that. Jack slowly pulled out of him, and found a towel to wipe them all off with, before pulling Steve’s pants up and sitting him back on the stool. He collapsed easily, humming happily as Brock sat down next to him and started to kiss him once more. This was almost too easy.

* * *

That night, Jack had never seen Brock so excited. They went into _Steve’s room_ and stripped him down together. Steve squirmed a little, ticklish and excited once he saw the gag sitting on the green sheets of the bed, waiting for him. They got him good and hard before Brock slipped on a new cock ring. They put some cuffs on Steve’s wrists, leather and new and thick and lifted his arms up to the exposed rafters, clipping them into a reinforced bracket. Then they put a spreader bar between his ankles, pushing his legs out wide. For good measure, they attached the middle of the spreader bar to another bracket in the floor.

It looked like they were just tying him down the way Brock did often, but they weren’t stupid enough to do what they were about to do to a super-soldier without some measure of containment.

Steve smiled, wide and happy when Jack pulled out the belt he had used on him before. He opened his mouth dutifully when Brock brought the gag up to his face.

Jack let the end of the belt drop as he stood behind Steve. Steve was taut with anticipation.

“You ready, puppy?”

Steve nodded.

Jack began to hit him with the belt, hard and fast. Steve cried out from behind the gag. Brock was watching, eyes wide.

“Suck him off,” Jack said.

Brock knelt down in front of Steve and started licking up and down his hard cock. Steve moaned and squirmed and that’s when Jack hit him again, right between the shoulder blades.

That went on for a long time. Brock stood up and turned the handle of the gag, pushing the ball deeper into Steve’s mouth. Steve made a tiny gagging noise and wriggled. Brock stepped over to the dresser in the corner of the room and pulled out a small box. He made his way back to Steve and started unscrewing one of his piercings, threading a new one in instead; a hoop. He did this to both sides and found a length of chain and clipped it between the hoops, before pulling it tight, stretching Steve out. Steve whined and wiggled and Jack hit him again.

“He’s harder than a diamond, Jack.” Jack took a minute and watched as Brock undid the chain from one of the nipple piercings and brought it up through the o-ring of the collar before threading it back into the piercing. The chain was too short for that, pulling hard on Steve’s nipples. Steve was panting through his nose, hips moving back and forth, desperate to get friction on his cock.

Jack stepped up behind him. “That’s his own fault, baby. Our puppy’s got himself in bed with a couple of wolves.”

Steve was gone. But more importantly, Brock was ecstatic. His eyes were wide and he was so, so happy. All Jack really wanted to do was pull him aside and fuck him while Steve watched, helpless. He reached up and twisted the handle of the gag just a little, pushing the ball further in. Steve groaned and bucked his hips.

“Can I tell him?” Brock whispered. “Please, Jackie. Please…”

* * *

Jack had fallen in love with Brock when they were kids. Or rather, Brock was a kid and Jack was old enough to be able to say he was an adult, but he still didn’t quite feel it. Brock was a just barely legal twink and Jack had just been promoted at SHIELD. He always said that if Brock were a chick he’d have married him that first month they started fucking, the timing was just too perfect. Destiny or some shit. Things were a little different back then, though. Fortunately Jack was too scary for the people at SHIELD, so Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was easy to work with since no one was brave enough to ask.

And Brock had been so listless. He didn’t know what he had wanted, but Jack knew. Jack saw that the kid wanted to be put in check. Hydra was good for that; that had been easy enough to do. But Brock had been such a subby little twink when he was younger and had just clicked with the way Jack liked to do things.

It was a match made in heaven. Giving Brock structure and fucking him senseless made Jack happy. And making Brock happy made Jack _really_ happy. It was weird. It was love, Jack supposed. But still, pretty fucking weird.

Jack wasn’t expecting to fall for a guy like Brock. Jack was quiet, Brock was loud. Jack was patient, and Brock was flighty. But sometimes, when the world was fitting together just right, there was a look in Brock’s eye that made Jack melt, that made Jack want to sink his teeth into Brock and never, ever let go.

That was the look he had now.

* * *

“Yeah, baby. Say it.”

Brock came close to Steve, licked his lips and clutched at Steve’s hips, pressing in so, so close.

“Hail Hydra,” Brock whispered into Steve’s ear.

Jack took a moment to turn away from the grin on Brock’s face to look at Steve.

Steve had grown very still. He took a moment and focused on Brock and then Jack and then Brock again, eyes darting, growing just a hair wider.

He shook his head just a little bit, blinking rapidly a few times, like he was trying to shake dust from his eye, shake the words from his ears. It was a small, but telling movement.

Brock’s grin turned sharp and he stroked Steve’s face. “You heard right, baby.”

He was shaking his head again, disbelieving, scared; just how Brock liked ‘em. He tugged on the cuffs, but of course they would not budge. Steve did not know that though. This whole time Steve thought he was in cuffs that he could break out of easily. Even from the beginning Steve had been able to get out of anything they put him in, he just never bothered to test it. But this was different. This was ‘super soldier proof.’ He stared up in them in horror, jerking against them, making no headway. His legs pulled against the chain holding the spreader bar to the floor. If he could gain some purchase, he might be able to break free, but he was held immobile. 

Brock’s smile made it all worth it. That was the smile Jack had fallen in love with. 

Steve pulled on the cuffs again, yanking hard but unable to pull himself free. His eyes were wide with panic now, and he was jerking on the restraints, breath heavy through his nose.

“Is that it, pet? Your hard limit?”

Steve met Jack’s eye, nodding frantically.

“Do you want us to undo the gag?”

He nodded again. His eyes were wet at the corners.

It was amazing how much two simple words could change someone. _Hail Hydra._ Jack marveled at him where he hung, squirming away from Brock’s wandering hands, terrified and shaking. He gave a wet keen behind the gag when Brock took his dick and started stroking around the cock ring. He held Jack’s gaze desperately. Jack could tell he was trying so hard to convey his discomfort through eye contact alone. It was working, but neither Jack nor Brock cared.

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small padlock, holding it up in front of Steve’s eyes. Steve lurched away as far as the restraints would take him, shaking his head and screaming behind the gag. Jack stepped around him, tightened the gag even tighter, leather digging into Steve’s skin and fit the padlock into place on the gag, locking it firmly against Steve’s head.

Then he reached around Steve’s face and twisted the lever a little more, pushing the ball deeper into Steve’s mouth. Steve was gagging against it, uselessly moving his head to try and dislodge it.

Jack ran his nails hard down the welts on Steve’s back, smearing the blood, seeing some of the wounds already healing and Steve made a terrible noise in his throat, trying to pull away. He was whimpering, crying in earnest now as Brock pulled hard on the chain attached to Steve’s nipple piercings and stroking his cock.

“Fuck him, Jack. I want to watch you fuck him while I cut him up. I want to hear you take him apart, Jack. Make him cry. Tell him everything. Do it, god, do it now.” He bent down and pulled a knife from his boot, and leaned close into Steve’s face. Jack peered around just in time to see Brock lick up a trail of tears off of Steve’s cheek.

He reached down and made his way between Steve’s legs.

Steve screamed again, head falling back as he kept pulling at the cuffs.

Jack thought about not even using lube, but decided against it. He reached towards the table and pumped some lube on his fingers and brought them back to Steve’s hole. He squirmed and clenched. Jack kept trying to work his finger in, but finally rolled his eyes and gave a pointed look to Brock. Steve flinched hard when Brock cut into the skin of his stomach, jerking back into Jack’s hand, onto his fingers. He yelped and tried to pull away but Jack wrapped his other arm around Steve’s waist and pulled him tight before starting to fuck him with his fingers.

He reached up and groped his chest, pressing hard against the piercing under his palm, kneading Steve’s tit eagerly, breathing heavy into Steve’s ear.

“Hail Hydra,” he whispered again. “Soon you’ll say it too. All this time, Steve. We’ve been fucking you like a god damn whore all this time. See, now you’re Hydra’s whore. You’re our little whore, puppy. That’s what you’ve always wanted anyway, isn’t it? You’re ours and you’ll be screaming ‘hail Hydra’ whenever you come in no time.”

Steve was trembling against him, shaking his head wildly, uselessly pulling on the cuffs, on the restraints, legs quivering, making the chain at the center of the spreader bar clatter against the floor. Jack looked over Steve’s shoulder and saw Brock carving something into his chest, bloody and dripping. He could smell the blood now that he was looking at it, the metallic tang bringing something out in him. He bit down on the junction between Steve’s shoulder and neck hard enough to break skin, his favorite spot.

Jack undid his pants, and with one swift motion pushed hard into Steve who screamed behind the gag once more. 

“This is just like our first time, isn’t it, puppy?” Jack said to Steve. “Your mouth was full then too. I thought Brock was an idiot to bring you to our bed, but god he was right. That man is always right.” He pulled Steve’s hair and forced him to look down at Brock, who was kneeling in front of Steve carving the knife into one of his thighs. “Isn’t he perfect? This was all his idea, and you know I can never say no to him. Neither can you. And he wants to see you cry, can you do that, pet? For him?”

Steve was already crying, but he squeezed his eyes shut and Jack saw the tears flow just a little bit harder down his face.

“Good boy. You gonna come? With me fucking you, with Brock cutting you up like the piece of meat you are? What’s gonna happen when I take off the cock ring? I bet you’ll come so hard you pass out, your spunk’ll hit the ceiling. Because that’s what whores do. And that’s what you really want, isn’t it? You don’t even fucking care if we’re Hydra, you just want to let go. You’ve been wanting this since Brock dragged you into that alley. Hell, since you crashed that plane. You just want to be abused so much you forget who you even are, Captain… _Steve._ ”

Jack had never seen anyone shake so hard as Steve was now, and Jack was an expert interrogator, he had seen plenty. He was fishing blindly for some of what he was saying to Steve, but he was hitting home runs with every word from the way Steve was acting. Steve hated himself. Steve thought he deserved this. It was as clear as the tears on his face.

“You can’t even run away. You’ve been smiling for the camera for months now, trussed up like a fish in a net, painted like a girl. You let us pierce your fucking nips. What were you thinking? What’ll people say? What’ll they say when someone leaks pictures of Captain America taking it up the ass, gagged and bound and so, so happy, coming so, so hard?”

Steve was shaking his head, crying earnestly.

“So are you gonna come, Steve?” Jack asked softly, pounding into him hard, hitting that spot inside of Steve that made him spasm and moan over, and over, and over. “We take off that cock ring, you gonna come?”

Brock glanced up, waiting for Steve to answer, and to their surprise, after a moment or two, Steve squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed a sob and nodded.

“Good puppy,” Jack said into his ear. “Good, good, boy.”

Brock came up and pressed his mouth to Steve’s cheeks, to the leather of the gag, cupping his head fondly. “I knew you were good, baby. I knew you’d be so good for us.”

Steve was crying, nodding, desperate and confused and everything Jack knew Brock wanted out of him. Jack was getting close and was pounding hard into Steve. He reached up and wrapped his hand around the collar, toying with the tag.

“Take the ring off,” Jack said to Brock over Steve’s shoulder. “I wanna feel him come on my cock. He’s earned it. He’s so, so good.”

Steve whimpered beautifully as Brock’s fingers reached for the cock ring, hips jutting back forcing himself deeper onto Jack’s cock with a moan, squirming and panicked. He was shaking his head again, but Jack could tell that he realized it was no use. He moaned when the cock ring was finally off, his body making his hips rock back and forth without his leave.

Brock ran his hand through the dripping blood on Steve’s chest and brought it to his cock, starting to stroke slow and steady in time with Jack’s deep thrusts. Steve was losing himself, leaning against Jack’s chest, head on Jack’s shoulder. His face was wet with tears, dripping down over the leather of the gag, and Jack reached up to pet his head, pushing his sweat-damp hair back. With their faces this close Jack could see Steve’s eyes glazing over, lust and fear mixing together.

“Hail Hydra, puppy. You ready to come? You gonna come for us? Come for Brock? Do you have any idea how happy you make him?” Steve’s brow furrowed at that. “Yeah. He’s so happy, pet. He’s so happy you’re with us, and now you know the truth. He loves this. He’s been wanting to see you like this since he met you, you know that? And I don’t think it’s the Captain America thing, puppy. You know what I think? I think he wanted to break you apart, to see you cry from the moment he saw you. That makes you ours. You’ve been so good for him, for us. You’re ours, puppy. That’s what you’ve wanted for so long. I can smell it on you. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

Jack wasn’t actually sure what he was saying, but it felt right. He felt Steve shiver against him and knew it was affecting him. Brock’s eyes were bright, his grin blinding as he pulled Steve’s head down and met his gaze.

“Ours,” Brock whispered.

Steve nodded.

“Come for us,” said Brock. “Come on, gorgeous.”

Jack thrust in once, twice more and felt Steve clench around him as he came into Brock’s hand with a shout behind the gag. Jack came next inside of him and then Brock, stroking his dick and spraying come over Steve’s hips and legs, mixing with what Steve had already spilled. He ran his hand through the dripping come and blood and brought it up to Steve’s face, pushing it into Steve’s hair as Steve hung panting against Jack’s chest.

It grew quiet in the little room, except for Steve breathing heavy through his nose. Brock handed Jack the plug from the table and Jack pulled out of Steve and pushed it in easily. Brock stroked Steve back to hardness, and put the cock ring back on. Steve did not protest, he was limp and exhausted. Together Jack and Brock brought his hands down from the rafters and clipped the cuffs on his wrists together behind his back. Jack held him up as Brock undid the spreader bar at his ankles and they walked him over to the bed where he flopped down, boneless, crying out when his damaged skin hit the sheets; Brock shushed him comfortingly, and he sank back into silence. They cuffed his feet together just for good measure.

Brock lay down next to him and Jack thought this might be the moment of truth. He watched as Steve hesitated for a moment before pressing against Brock’s side, and letting out a soft sigh.

“Good boy,” Jack whispered behind him, stroking his arm. “Good, good puppy.”

Even with gag, Jack could see it. He turned and looked at Jack over his shoulder, their eyes met. It was soft, tinged still with fear and uncertainty but it was there.

He was smiling.

“That’s right. You did really well,” Jack said reassuringly. “Go to sleep, puppy. We got you. You’re ours.”

Steve rested his head on the pillow. Tomorrow, when they stepped out of the room and locked Steve in he might not be smiling. Hopefully he’ll come to his senses and realize this is not a game anymore. That would mean Jack and Brock would get to break him down all over again, probably multiple times, but that didn’t matter tonight. Tonight Steve was falling asleep in their arms. At least for tonight, Steve believed that they had given him something he needed.

Brock leaned over Steve’s body and pressed his lips to Jack’s. Jack could taste it in the kiss, Brock was happy. That was all that mattered.

That meant Jack was happy too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Betsy. This was a whole lot of porn, huh?  
> [tumblr](http://batraquomancy.tumblr.com). [NSFW tumblr](http://tiethewitchup.tumblr.com/).  
> [Share this Story](http://tiethewitchup.tumblr.com/post/132375508369/do-you-allow-your-pets-to-sleep-on-the-bed). If you're under 18 please do NOT follow my NSFW blog.


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